Cerulean Nightmares
by Z. Alexander
Summary: Sonnets of cerulean and epithets to elegance. Painted silent screams and splashes of blood on the bedsheets. This is everything they didn't want for their next life but they still want each other, even after everything. AkuRoku.
1. Part I

Oh good god. This is the most risqué thing I've ever written in my entire life. No, it's not a lemon or anything, but it's definitely M-rated for dark themes, blatant sexuality, mind-warping, and language; it's as close to a lemon you'll ever get out of me and it made my heart pound in pure, unadulterated FEAR. I wasn't sure whether to put it under mystery or horror, but I went with horror because mystery doesn't sound as fucked up as this story is. I seriously was _afraid _to write this because of how sexual it is…and I'm shaking and cold and sick but I feel so accomplished!

This is a weird writing style, because it's completely in someone's head without _actually _being in their head. It's not first-person but it might as well be…if that makes any sense. I'm sure there's a term for that but I'm not really a writer. I kind of sucked at English, actually, because I always went off on tangents and spaced out a lot.

(This entire story was inspired by one song; I've never been overly fond of My Chemical Romance, but I randomly came across this song in my music folder. It's called "Blood," and it's the most amazingly awesome minute-and-twenty-seconds of appallingly humorous morbidity. If you get a chance, look it up; it made me giggle like no one's business.)

I don't own anything to do with Kingdom Hearts, Disney, any music I might reference, any books or art I might reference, or anything else you recognize unless it's something I brought over from one of my other fics. Oh, and I _did _write the sonnet, which I'm kind of embarrassed to admit because it's my first one and kind of retarded but it was necessary.

* * *

**Cerulean **_**Nightmares**_

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

_You know you want to. 3612 Memory Lane. –R and L._

He deletes the message out of something like habit, except it's not habit because he's never done this before. He doesn't recognize the number or the address but he knows where Memory Lane is, and he needs a break from working toward carpal tunnel syndrome so he decides to check it out.

His black slacks and black tee-shirt will have to do, because he can't find anything else that's clean.

Memory Lane is in the rich part of town, but who cares? He's not out to impress anyone.

* * *

Axel thinks (he love love _loooooves _thinking, because he's always right and fucking _brilliant) _the kid'll be _pa-the-tic._ The kind who cries at the bump in the night, who watches romantic comedies and blows spoonfuls of Ben-and-Jerry's when he's – huhah – _distressed. _His hair is spiked into a fuckin' weird shape that favors one side of his head, blond – _blonde, _even, because he looks like a girl – and his eyes are ocean blue, or maybe cerulean, or whatever the fuck that crayon color is.

"Ce-ru-le-an." It's a great word, and he repeats it because it feels really good rolling off his tongue. "Ce…ruuuu…lee…annnn."

People's heads turn and they gaze upon his utterly cerulean (what is that again? Sounds fucking _cool) _awesomeness, but Blondie-blonde-blond doesn't notice, and he's kinda miffed because _damn. _Everyone should worship him, all the _time._

But the boy is be-au-ti-ful, after all, even if he _is _pa-the-tic.

And holy shit, he's suddenly got four eyes. And an extra half of a nose. And a weird-ass mouth that's long; those lips are full and odd looking, and his tongue is too skinny when he licks his wrist and takes a shot.

_Guuuul-p._

But fuck, even though his face is scary beyond all reason (hardy-_haaaaw, _and _man _but he's hilarious), his body's gorgeous and he _wants _that bump in the night so he can – mm_hmm – _take advantage. Oh, yeah, hold him like he _cares, _and then help him _for-get._

But then the girl next to the Boy (another blondie-blonde, with tentacles or something growing out of her temples) catches his gaze and narrows her eyes like it's some kind of – _ooooh – _challenge. He tries to make his 'bring it on' face, but his forehead isn't working too well and only his lips move. Probably looks like some retarded 'come hither' look, but if she does come hither he'll rip those tentacles out of her fucking _face._

Because he won't be able to see the Boy and that'll be really irritating and she's pretty but not nearly as fuckable as _him _and now the boy's leaning toward her and making a face and _frowning _and looking toward him and _damn, _but he feels in-vin-ci-ble. Something's in his hand and he thinks he's supposed to suck on it or something so he does, and smoke goes up his nose and he remembers he's supposed to _inhale._

He looks to his left and jumps, because there's a pile of _leaves _sitting next to him, holding a bottle of something he wants to try but he won't yet because the label is scratched out or something and he can't _read _it, so he can't tell if it's marked 'poison.' But he thinks maybe it's Cerulean and he taps the pile of leaves on what he think is its shoulder.

"Ce-ru-le-an. In the bottle. I wanna try it."

"Man, you are _fucked," _says Demyx or whatever his name is from somewhere nearby, and he looks around but all he can see is that _pile of leaves _and the Boy out of the corner of his eye.

He gives a very stern look to the leaves. "Get away," he says, and he's proud of his steady, confident voice. But of course, it couldn't be anything but, because he's in-vin-ci-ble. "I…I wanna see the guy. Demyx. I wanna see Demyx. Move."

"Axel, it's _me. Demyx," _says the pile of leaves, but Axel isn't falling for _that _trick.

"Can't fool me. I'm onto-onto-onto _you._ Move, move, _move."_

And he says it a few more times because he suddenly likes that word more than any other word. "Move, move, move, move, move."

"Gimme that," the leaves say, and they kind of sound like a worried Demyx and he wonders if he can take acting lessons for a minute. But then Leaf Pile next to him grabs the Thing out of his hand and _it's waaar now._

He makes to yank the bottle of Cerulean or whatever away from the Leaves and then he realizes it _is _Demyx and he laughs because the guy (he thinks he's probably his best friend or maybe his worst enemy) was just _pretending _to be a pile of leaves. "Silly Demyx," he chastises. "Silly Demyx."

Demyx rolls his eyes and says, "You need to _stop _now, man. Your sister's gonna be _pissed."_

He doesn't know what a sister is or why it will be pissed, but the Boy is really pretty and now that Demyx has taken his Thing, he needs something else to hold. So he heaves himself off the couch with ease-ease-ease _(he's so fucking cool) _and meanders across the crowded room toward the table with the Boy and Tentacle Girl. Only now she has weird-ass antennae, and she's – ohnoyoudontbitch – kissing him.

But he's still in-vin-ci-ble, so he finishes his journey (since when did the room get so _long?) _and almost reaches the Boy when they both stand and she leads him up the stairs. He's not even _trying _to struggle, even though Axel is _right there, _and now it's certain: the kid's a _pussy, _but he's beautiful and Axel must have him.

He follows, even though the stairs prove harder to walk on than the floor, and he gets distracted when he sees a fuckin' _weird _painting on the wall. Even in the dim light – _especially_ in the dim light, it startles him. It's all distorted and holding its face and screaming silently and Axel thinks it must be on drugs, the stupid thing.

At first it looks funny, but the more he stares the more he realizes it's someone haunting him. His skin tingles and he gets goosebumps; he just _knows _there's something sinister beside him, but he's too afraid to turn and look.

The colors dance around and mock him, and the man jumps out at him and even though his face is permanently stuck in a screaming position, Axel knows it's telling him to _watch out. _He backs away with wide eyes and a pounding heart, and presses himself against the wall because he doesn't want the sinister thing to creep up and catch him from behind. It follows him and comes closer and closer, and Axel stares into its haunting eyes.

The mouth seems to open a bit wider and, trembling, he closes his eyes and prepares to be swallowed whole. But after a moment, nothing happens so he opens his eyes again.

He's not prepared to be met with the side of someone's head; the person tumbles down the stairs, and when he glances at the painting it's playing innocent. He marches up to it and yells, "Don't chase me! I can do it on my own!"

He doesn't know what he can do on his own, but suddenly he remembers the Boy and glares at the painting for slowing him down. He frowns and shakes his finger, and says a few choice words to make sure it knows its place.

They haven't closed the door so Axel stumbles in when he finishes telling off the painting and look, now he's too late. He'll have to yell at the painting some more, for making him late because Antenna-Girl's shirt is half-off and the Boy's shirt is nowhere to be seen and she's _ride-ride-riding _him. He can't see their lower bodies because a black sheet is bunched around her hips, but the Boy's face is the most erotic sight he's ever seen.

And he's making the noises he _should _be making for Axel and _damn, _but that is _hot. _He's aroused already and he can't stop his own hand from unbuttoning his slacks and diving in.

They don't even notice he's _there, _even though his head bangs against the wall when he slides down.

The Boy's eyes are halfway between shut tight and wide open, and Axel realizes he was only _pretending _to have four before, because now there are only two and they are be-au-ti-ful. The boy's lips are open in a prettier version of the painting's silent scream, and when his body spasms, Axel thinks he sees a fuckin' _six-pack _on the Boy's stomach.

But that's impossible, because the kid's so fucking _scrawny _and pathetic.

Or maybe it's _him _who's pathetic, since he's not on top of the Boy. Antenna-Girl is, and he's only stroking himself in the doorway watching the delectable face contort and listening to those silky groans as they finish and wondering where he put his lighter since he needs to _burn _that painting.

Oh, that's right; it was the painting's fault. He's not pathetic, it's still the Boy, and maybe Antenna-Girl but she didn't have any trouble dragging the Boy around like a fuckin' rag doll so maybe not and how can he think at a time like this? He can't focus on one thing for very long, though, so he goes back to watching the Boy as he rolls over to cuddle or some shit like that.

A bungee cord or something stretches out as far as it can go, or maybe it's a spring curling inward because suddenly everything _lets go _and shoots outward hard and fast. And it's funny but not so funny because in the same moment, the Boy kisses the girl and says three stupid words he can't _possibly _mean.

"I love you."

But that's just a lie because Axel is in-vin-ci-ble and the Boy is pa-the-tic and he'll get him sooner or later because he's _brilliant._

He's gonna rest his head for a second against the wall and then burn the painting, and he fixes his pants because they feel kind of retarded. He wonders what Demyx did with the bottle of Cerulean after he stole Axel's Thing, and he vows to find it and take care of it because the sonofabitch probably broke its heart.

But only after he burns the painting, which comes right after resting his head.

* * *

He opens his eyes to a crick in his neck and a massive headache. He doesn't know whose bed he's looking at, but it's stripped bare and only a blood-red comforter rests on the foot of it. He closes one eye against the blinding sunlight peeking through heavy black curtains, trying to recall why he's against the wall in the first place.

He looks to his knobby knees and frowns when he sees a black pillow resting on them; whoever he'd shared this room with was kind enough to give him a pillow, though he doesn't know why they would if they kicked him out of bed. The pillow smells like rose milk and the random realization helps his mind become a little clearer.

None of this makes any sense, because he's never seen these surroundings and he doesn't remember what happened last night.

This has never _happened _before; he usually wakes up at home, on his desk, strings of nonsense covering the screen because he fell asleep on the keyboard again, even if he doesn't remember what happened the night before. He doesn't much like people, and he realizes he smells like _shit._

Fuck.

He stands up quickly and immediately wishes he hadn't, because everything from his left foot to the middle of his back is completely numb. He _hates _it when his butt falls asleep, and it's not helped by the sudden wave of dizziness and nausea he feels; there's something dry and uncomfortable in his pants he wishes he didn't recognize and he wonders what the _fuck _happened last – oh, god, he's gonna _heave._

As quick as he can with a malfunctioning leg, he rushes out the door and into a hallway he's never seen. The bathroom is right by the door and he's glad, because eight seconds later he empties his stomach into his porcelain savior.

(He has a feeling he'd get killed if he vomited on the hall carpet; it's an interesting deep green color and very, _very _clean.)

He hears a hard knock on the doorframe and he groans, because his head is _pounding. _A sharp, sultry female voice reverberates through the room, only adding to the pain; he detects a faint accent, but he can't place it and he really doesn't care all that much because he wants to curl up and _die._

"You're up early," the female comments, and he deduces she's about the same age as him, perhaps slightly older. "I'm surprised. You were off your _head _last night."

She comes closer and he risks looking up. He notices how pretty she is; her eyes are poison green, her face is slender, and her lips are absolutely beautiful, even though her smirk is mocking him for something. Her hair is funny in the front, slicked back into two ponytails or something.

"Off my _head?"_

It hurts to talk.

"Yeah," she says, studying his face before turning to the sink and opening a cupboard below it. "You were staring at my husband all night, and then you wandered into our room to watch us fuck."

His eyes widen before the light makes his head throb, and he buries his face in his hand and groans almost disbelievingly. "That's impossible. I don't even _remember _the last time I was attracted to someone, but I've never been attracted to a guy before."

She snorts and hands him a dark purple towel, and he notices that the whole bathroom is dark purple and light green and a color Kairi would probably call 'eggshell.'

"Don't worry; you were really _fucked._ You probably thought Roxie was a girl, and I know how lesbians make guys hot. Besides; I know a newbie when I see one, and _you, _Red, are de-cep-tive-ly good at this. But you were still a virgin until just recently…figuratively speaking."

He frowns. "What're you talking…I don't…"

"I would be baffled if you did; Vex probably gave you something you couldn't handle again. Now get in the shower, because you're positively _rank. _Roxie's downstairs burning breakfast and I don't want you fouling up the kitchen any more than he has already."

He blinks, and when she slams the door the echo rolls around in his head and he thinks maybe a shower _would_ be a good idea. He runs a wad of toilet paper along the toilet seat to clean off the extra sick and flushes, before putting the lid down and setting the neatly folded towel on top.

His leg protests his getting up but he really does smell awful and he thinks maybe the water will help him feel better.

The water is louder and heavier than he remembers it ever being, and through the partially open window he can hear the chirping of some morning bird. He closes his eyes tightly and leans his head against the wall, wishing away the bird and the light and the roar of the water.

* * *

Someone's trying to wake him, but his head hurts too much to open his eyes. He doesn't know why, but he's wet and exhausted and the man trying to wake him sounds worried. He lies still and tries to make out the words.

"Kairi's gonna hate us," the Voice says. "Hey. Please say something, so I know I'm not crazy because I'm fairly sure you're awake."

He tries to speak, but something sticks in his throat and all that comes out is a garbled 'hello.' It doesn't sound like a word so much as a moan, but he tried his best. He hears a sigh of relief.

"He's up, Larx. I don't think we'll need to call 911; just hand me that wet cloth."

Something wet drapes over his eyes, blocking out the rest of the light. It smells like mint and rose milk for some reason, and even though the scent is strong, as soon as he breathes it in he can feel his headache disappearing or maybe he just wants to believe that because it fucking _hurts._

The Voice is very quiet now, and he strains to hear it but all he can catch is, _"Don't say that, Larx. He's a human being, just like you _and _me."_

He doesn't know why, but that feels like a compliment.

He still doesn't know who his saviors are, but he thinks he remembers blonde hair and green eyes. Soon, the Voice comes back and whispers, "It'll be all right – I'll take care of you."

He thinks the Voice is the most beautiful sound he's ever heard, just before he feels something soft like bread dough on his forehead and he falls into a deep sleep.

* * *

Axel wakes in his own seldom-used bed, confused. He doesn't remember what he did last night, and though he usually has a good memory, this is an increasingly familiar scenario and he kind of wants to scream. He's in clean, loose-fitting pajamas – another oddity he's getting used to, since he's usually too tired to change at night. The scent of rose milk clings to his shirt, and it's only more confusing but he feels as if he's just had the best sleep in his life.

He strains his mind, but can't recall a _single thing; _so he decides he'll ring Kairi, because he knows they were supposed to meet last night to reconnect after three months apart. His little sister has a very odd talent for knowing things sometimes, and he hopes she can shed light on this situation.

There's a cell phone plugged into the wall right where it always is, and he unplugs it so he can lie on his bed and speak. Punching in the numbers, he sets his arm behind his head, and strange phantom pain shoots into his brain but it's gone as quickly as it came.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey, Kairi."

His sister's voice is frantic and scratchy when she replies, _"I was so worried about you! I mean…I couldn't find you last night at the party, and Naminé dragged me out at three because that's when everyone _has _to leave! Did you just leave before I could find you? Oh, god, Axel…I thought you were…"_

He frowns and clears his throat. "Hey, Kai, I'm fine. I'm not hurt. In fact, I don't think I've felt this good in a long time. And…_what _party? I can't remember anything up till five minutes ago, when I woke up."

There's such a long pause on the other end of the line that Axel thinks the line must've gone dead, but suddenly Kairi's speaking, deathly quiet. _"You don't remember last night?"_

"No, but I'm pretty sure if I'd been at a party I'd be feeling pretty shitty right now."

"_Hang on a sec."_

He keeps the phone to his ear and he can distantly hear Kairi carrying on a conversation obviously not meant for his ears.

"_Nam, I need you to call Rox and Larx. Talk to Larx if you can, because Rox is probably…well, you know. I need to find out about Axel. …No, he's fine. More than fine. …Yeah, I know; that's why I need you to call. …We can go after your phone call and check, all right?"_

He can't help but raise an eyebrow out of habit; his sister is frazzled and frantic and something tells him he's missing something _huge. _Kairi's voice comes back, and she sounds much different from before.

"_Naminé and I are coming over in a few minutes, okay? I think Selphie left her book there when she visited last time. Can you look for it in that dumping grounds you call home?"_

"What's it called?"

"_Uh…Twilight. It's got a picture of an apple or something on the front. It's one of those teen vampire romances."_

He laughs lightly. "I'll look for it, but if I ever saw it I probably threw it out. I wouldn't want it defiling my sanctuary."

"_Yeah, yeah. We'll be over in a sec."_

He cancels the call and frowns pensively, wondering what in the world Kairi's so upset about. It used to be unheard of for him to forget large blocks of time but it's starting to become familiar like a friend he can't get rid of and he knows nothing bad happened; otherwise, he wouldn't be lying in his bed, feeling better than he has in years.

Moments pass and he realizes he told his sister he'd look for Selphie's book, so he rolls out of bed again and meanders down the stairs and into the living room. There's a book on the coffee table labeled _Twilight, _and although his entire home is littered with papers and books and coffee cups, it's ridiculously easy to see. He wonders why he never noticed it before; Selphie hasn't been to his house in nearly four months.

He picks it up and smells rose milk, and thinks he hears a beautiful laugh ring faintly in the back of his mind. He thinks that perhaps he's _finally_ unhinging, because the laugh doesn't sound familiar but the voice does. The laugh itself is silky and mocking but genuinely amused, and he doesn't understand why he knows all this when he can't actually hear it.

He raises the book to his face and fans the pages, trying to send more of the scent into the air; at that moment, there's a knock on his door and he sets to book down so he can answer. He's expecting Kairi and Naminé, but when he opens the door he's nearly bowled over by Demyx.

He only knows Demyx from the corner grocer's, but apparently Demyx thinks they're friends now because he says, "I was so _worried, _man. I thought for _sure _you were gonna…"

He stops abruptly and sniffs Axel's shirt, and it's creepy enough for Axel to push him away. "The hell are you doing?"

"You smell like Roxie," he says, looking at Axel almost suspiciously. "Who'd you leave with last night?"

Axel sighs and rubs his forehead, already irritated with the man. He doesn't know who or what Roxie is, and Demyx is kind of annoying anyway. "I didn't _leave _with anyone because I didn't go anywhere last night. I woke up in my bed about a half hour ago."

Demyx pinches the inside of his cheek between two teeth, and looks away. "I thought I saw you last night."

"You were probably out drinking Cerulean or some shit like that," he says derisively, until he realizes he has no idea what he's talking about.

Demyx stiffens for a moment. "Come again?"

Axel shrugs. "I have no idea where that came from. Anyway, I'm expecting my sister, so…could you…leave, or something?"

The light hits Demyx's hair as he turns away and he realizes it looks to be made of sand; Demyx shrugs and shoves his hands deeply into his pockets. "Whatever, man. Say hi to Naminé for me."

He opens his mouth to ask him how he knows Axel's sister's girlfriend, but he's already slinking out the door and he's lost his chance. He's suddenly, and without reason, absolutely exhausted so he leans his head against the wall in the foyer and closes his eyes. After a few moments, another knock sounds and he reluctantly opens his eyes to answer.

It's Kairi and Naminé at the door and he can't help being startled when an unfamiliarly familiar male face superimposes itself onto Naminé's. It's stunning, with beautiful lips and cerulean eyes, but when Axel blinks it's gone and the only thing left is Naminé's questioning gaze. The memory of the image slips away, and it's puzzling but he doesn't really care because he's _tired._

"Hey guys," he says automatically. "Come on in."

They traipse in after him and Naminé shuts the door softly; he flops onto the couch and covers his eyes with his forearm. Naminé sits by his feet and Kairi sits on the coffee table by his head, right by Selphie's book. "Sorry," he says, without really meaning it and without knowing why he's said it in the first place. He thinks he might as well continue so he says, "I'm suddenly really tired for no reason."

"I'm not surprised," Kairi says softly, and takes his hand between both of hers. "Last night I was afraid you were going to die."

"I didn't really do anything last night," he says, even though he's starting to think otherwise.

"You just don't remember," Naminé says, and he hears something shuffling so he looks at her. She's dug her wallet out of her white bag and she flips it open to reveal a picture. Slipping it out of its protective cover, she hands it over and he studies it.

It's an old family picture; Naminé looks to be about twelve, and she's standing next to…Demyx. So they're family? There's a father behind them with blond hair who looks uncannily like Demyx, holding hands with a mother with brown hair. The blond must be dominant, Axel thinks, but then he sees a figure he never thought he'd see again.

Sora.

Sora had been his best friend for a while, before he got sick. When Axel was sixteen and Sora was seventeen, the brunet died; Kairi, who had been dating him, was devastated and Axel was pretty broken up himself. But there Sora is, laughing at the camera and leaning on an unknown boy's shoulder. The boy is scowling slightly, but Axel can see the laughter in his eyes and he thinks they must be extremely close. Twins, maybe.

Though the rest of the family is standing in the sun, Sora and the blond are under an awning, and the reason he nearly missed them in the first place is because the shadows seem to swallow them up. Sora's eyes are like glowing jewels and the blond's match them, although they're a few shades darker. The rest of the family is sweet, but Sora and the blond are captivating and he almost feels guilty for being unable to tear his eyes away.

He wonders why he's never seen the unknown boy before.

"That's my older brother," says Naminé quietly, sighing with something like regret.

"Why did I never know him?"

"He was…not very well-liked within our family. He still isn't, actually, but Demyx and I can look past what our parents can't. Sora was always the favorite, because he was so _energetic _and _amazing _and easy to get along with. He ate when he was told, did his chores right away, and…he was everyone's sunlight. They were twins…and if Sora was the sun, Roxas is the moon but my parents expected him to be just like Sora." Naminé takes a breath and he thinks he sees tears in her eyes.

"He's really sick," she continues. "He's got a really rare disorder, and part of that is an acute sensitivity to bright light and heat. That really irked my parents, because he refused to go out during the day; he would walk to school before the sun rose, and he wouldn't come home until the sun set. If he's in the sun for more than fifteen minutes at a time, he looks like a lobster and even eight minutes in he's burned a little. I would've done the same thing, but Sora was in soccer and track and they expected _him _to be, too. They kicked him out just after that picture was taken; they tried to check him into a mental institution, but there was no basis.

He's not crazy; he really is just sick; but he wasn't sleeping well or eating well and they took the opportunity to accuse him of being on drugs, which wasn't the case. So he went to live with a cousin of ours in Radiant Garden, which was really taxing for him because it's always very hot and bright; but he was relatively happy there, I think. When Sora got driving privileges, he used to tell our parents he was going to hang out with Riku, and then he'd drive all the way to Radiant Garden to see him."

She smiles fondly. "Sora was always such a good brother; he always looked after him, even though he refused to admit he needed help. But one day…Sora came back from a weekend with 'Riku' exhausted and really pale – he was ill. We thought it was just the flu, because after about a week it went away; but it came back, and when he started avoiding bright lights my parents realized he'd caught my brother's illness."

She frowns, and Axel can see something in her eyes which almost frightens him. "It's almost impossible to catch that disease, because it spreads through blood, and they were both always really careful; but if you catch it, you have to take really good care of yourself. Our parents refused to let him go back to Radiant Garden, so he had no way of getting help…and then when he died, our parents blamed my brother. That was when Demyx and I realized that maybe Sora was right and our parents were wrong."

Axel frowns and says the first thing which pops into his head. "So, his sickness is like AIDS, or something?"

She laughs, but he can tell her heart's not in it. "It's spread in a similar way, but it's _nothing _like that. It's almost like a genetic mutation gone wrong; it doesn't mesh with the person's body, and if it gets into someone else's bloodstream they react accordingly. I actually don't know anything about genetics or diseases, so don't quote me on that; but I guess…it's like trying to mix grammar-school watercolors and traditional oil paints. It's…interesting, but not particularly pleasant to work with."

He stares at the picture, hard, because he realizes the face that appeared on Naminé is the face belonging to the boy. He knows he's seen this face before…it seems like an intense, intimate memory, but he can't remember the memory and it's almost infuriating. It seems like his mind is dropping away and he wants to grab hold but he can't because his fingers are stuck to the edges of the photograph.

"I could swear I've seen this face before," he murmurs.

"He threw a party last night," Kairi throws in, and when Axel looks he sees an unreadable look on her face but she seems almost disappointed. "You were there."

He chuckles, because he doesn't know what else to do. "I don't remember anything about a party."

"That doesn't mean you weren't there," Kairi replies, and he can _tell _she's angry _now. _"You were _baked _last night. I can't decide who I want to kill more; you, or Vexen."

He blinks. "Vexen?"

"He's the one who gave you his 'special,' even though he knew you don't frequent parties," Naminé says quietly. Her tone is gentler than Kairi's, but he knows she's feeling the same. They're very in tune with each other; they've always been best friends, even when Kairi was dating Sora and Naminé secretly liked Kairi. "He's usually pretty good about staying away from people who wouldn't like that part, but he always shows up to the parties and I guess he decided you were someone he could test his creation on."

"Parties? Plural?"

Kairi shrugs. "They throw parties all the time; at least three times a week. Their house is _huge, _even though there are only two of them living there, and they have nothing else to do with their money. Vexen is _always _there, though my brother doesn't like him."

"Maybe I should go to the next one and chew out this Vexen character myself," he jokes, but a glance at the girls' faces makes him blanch.

"_No," _Kairi says firmly. "Roxas has probably taken-"

"Roxas? Roxie?" He isn't sure why he says this, but all of a sudden he remembers the most beautiful person he's ever seen. The familiarity of the photo makes sense now; at fourteen, the boy is sickly and awkward. But now…he is beautiful and breathtaking and he's not sure why he knows this but perhaps it's a stray memory from the party he can't remember.

Naminé's eyes widen and she asks, faintly, "He lets you call him Roxie?"

He shrugs. "I have no idea. I just remember that name…and Demyx said it earlier, too. He says hi, by the way."

Kairi and Naminé exchange wary looks. He's suddenly sick of the secrecy and sick of being out of the loop; Demyx and Naminé are brother and sister, this Roxas person was Sora's twin, and now the only thing he knows is that he doesn't know anything. He frowns because there's nothing else he can do and asks, quite randomly and without knowing why, "Do they have a name for this rare disease of his?"

He doesn't have internet because he can't afford it, and he doesn't have any medical books because he's never been interested, but perhaps he can look it up at the library and find out why Naminé's parents acted so horribly. If it was bad enough to kill Sora, shouldn't they have been more supportive?

Naminé makes a funny face and giggles behind her hand, something that kind of irritates him because laughs are laughs and shouldn't be hidden. "I'm sure there's a technical term for it, but I don't know what it is. We just call it blood-sickness."

"His blood is sick?"

"Yeah…" She sighs, and her whole demeanor changes. She looks depressed now, something which does _not _look good on her. "He's almost died a couple of times, because of severe anemia. He actually met his wife in the hospital; she was there doing community service and he was stuck in the place he hates most. She was immediately attracted, and so was he. I'm glad; he's never been any good with people, and she has a history of severe violence."

He raises an eyebrow.

"I think everyone's attracted to him at some point or another," Kairi puts in helpfully. "I had the _biggest _crush on him, but he got sent away and I found out what a wonderful guy Sora was."

Axel doesn't know what to make of that, because he's never heard of Roxas until now. He doesn't know why no one's talked about him, but he's never been good with people either because if they somehow _don't _irritate him they just fade into the background. He lives in his head with the characters in his books and he finds them more pleasant company than most people. Perhaps he _did _know Roxas at one point, and –

Suddenly, something inside him lurches; it's a wonderfully sick, tingling feeling spreading through his entire body and lining his stomach. His vision goes blurry and his eyes become very wide, and it's all he can do to not grab his head or jump up and scream. It's the most horrible feeling he's ever had; he thinks it's similar to what a drug addict goes through when they're trying to stay clean and they start craving, but that's absolutely impossible because even if he _did _have something last night, once is probably not enough to draw this reaction out of him. Besides; this has been happening often recently and he thinks he's probably just sick or something. He smells mint and rose milk, and then he smells vomit and it's so potent he can hardly breathe.

"A-are you okay? Axel? _Axel, please answer me," _Kairi says, sounding much too frantic for the situation.

He forces his eyes closed and nods. "I'm fine. I just felt a little sick. If you've been telling the truth about the party, then I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

Naminé bites her lip in worry and Kairi eyes him carefully, but he flashes them his best smile and they seem to realize that he's perfectly okay.

"Axel, please don't go to that house again," Kairi asks pleadingly.

"Don't worry," he says, and he knows the girls don't catch the fact that he didn't agree. He doesn't know why, but he wants to meet Roxas desperately. It's a sudden, irrational _need, _and if he promises he'll just end up breaking it.

* * *

A desperate character comes to him and demands that his story be written, and Axel is helpless. He is always helpless in times like these; his fingers glide over the keyboard and weave a tale of invincibility and deception and weakness of the soul, and not the body. The young man whispers in his ears and when Axel is too tired to think straight, the young man takes over and moves his fingers for him.

It's got a strange feeling and it makes him shiver in some places, but something drives him hard and fast and he loses all sense of self. He only pauses to powernap or make coffee or occasionally make rice or oatmeal, because that's all he has in his house and he can't afford anything right now.

He's four chapters in when he realizes it's been nearly a week. He checks his phone and sees that he has twenty-six missed calls and eight test messages; four are from Kairi, three are from Naminé and one is from a number he doesn't recognize.

The small silver device beeps pathetically and he checks his voicemails; all of them are from Kairi, telling him in frantic tones that she's worried about him and to at least unlock his door. He feels slightly guilty for making her worry and resolves to call her as soon as he reads his texts. Kairi's texts run along the same vein, and Naminé's mirror Kairi's worry. He deletes them and reads the last, which is baffling and exciting all at once.

_You know you want to. 3612 Memory Lane. –R and L._

He knows, somehow, who this message is from and since he's just received it today, he can guess there's a party tonight. He likes the evenness of the address and though Memory Lane is far away, he can reach it easily if he goes early enough to catch the tram. He can dig in the couch cushions for loose change, and maybe find enough to buy something cheap at McDuck's. It's worth a try.

Out of something like habit but not, because he's never done it before, he deletes the message.

He powers down the computer and yawns, noting that his breath is disgusting and he's still in his clothes from a week ago. If he hurries, he can take a shower, and he knows he'll hurry because the hot water never lasts long. It's November, and although it never snows in Twilight Town, it's only because it's too _cold _to snow. He's just glad his heater is working.

He strips out of the comfortable pajamas, shivering slightly as he waits for the water to heat up. In a moment, he's under the showerhead and sighing in pleasure, because he really _did _feel disgusting. He notices he's nearly out of shampoo and groans, because his novel didn't sell very well and he's running on empty until he can write something worthwhile. Money comes in but not like it should and groceries are secondary to electricity; it shows but he _needs _to write and he's starved before. He can do it again.

He squeezes the bottle several times, listening to the wheezing sound and sighing when he realizes this is all he's going to get. He lathers his hair and revels in both the tea-tree scent and the way it feels to scrub his scalp, before rinsing and starting on his body. He has to hurry fast because he can already feel the water losing heat, but he refuses to smell like days-old socks and oatmeal.

Only a minute or so after the nozzle shoots freezing water onto his head, Axel is out of the shower and shivering as he towels himself off. He runs to his bedroom and digs in his bureau for warm clothes, and starts when he runs into something intensely soft. It's a pair of black pants, which are more like slacks than sweatpants but they're softer than any sweatpants could ever be. He sees that there's a matching shirt, and they're so warm that he puts them on without thinking about how he got them. He smells rose milk again and wonders if there's such a thing as olfactory hallucinations, but getting ready quickly is more important so he runs to the bathroom again.

He brushes his teeth thoroughly four times, so he doesn't feel the grime that's collected on them, and for good measure swishes around the rarely-used mouthwash Selphie gave him last Christmas. He runs a comb through his hair, but he knows it's pointless to style it because no matter what, it will stick up and make him look like a hedgehog. He only has a little bit of shaving cream left, so he uses in the thinnest layer he can – he looks terrible with a beard, and even worse with that awful stubble – and it's not quite enough under his chin, because the razor catches and he bleeds a little.

It's unfortunate that he'll have to go out with a wet head, but if he wants to catch the tram he needs to rush. He walks quickly into the living room and digs into the cushions, utterly surprised when he pulls out a fifty. He can eat for at least three weeks with this, _and _get some new shampoo. He can buy more toothpaste because _that's _getting low, and he wonders how he ever missed this much money.

But it's only one note, and he doesn't want to take it out because parties are great places to lose things. People are _de-cep-tive _and _cruuuuel, _and _cannot be trust-ed._

He blinks and shakes his head, because those _words _echo inside his head and the voice sounds _awfully _familiar. It's like his own, except it makes him feel intensely predatory and disturbingly careless.

His body shudders and he decides it's just the cold, because he's afraid of what it would mean if he was scared of his own head. Before his parents died and left him the house, they thought he was crazy; and back then, he _was _afraid of his own head. He's come to terms with it now, but occasionally his thoughts make him shiver and he throws himself into his writing more than ever because he only wants to be as crazy as he'll let himself.

The book, _Twilight, _is still on the coffee table because Kairi forgot to take it and it makes him irrationally angry. He rips out a couple of pages and puts the book in the garbage; it doesn't matter if it's Selphie's. The blank pages he's ripped out smell like rose milk and he's always loved that scent but it's getting a little ridiculous.

He rushes to shove his shoes inside his boots and _forget-forget-forget, _and although he's not expecting to use a coat – he doesn't own one that fits, any more – he finds one hanging on the coat rack by the door. It's long and black and elegant, with silver chains hanging from the hood; it reminds him of the beautiful face in the back of his head. He laughs desperately and wonders if he really _is _crazy, but it's freezing outside and a thin coat like this is better than nothing.

It's warmer than he thought possible, and a pair of black gloves is found in the left pocket. He's not the kind of person to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he refuses to think about how disturbing this is and he runs to catch the tram after grabbing his phone and locking the door. He notices that the coat he found smells like rose milk and he laughs in an almost insane disbelief, but he tells himself it doesn't matter because the more out of it he is the better he'll write.

It's only when he's waiting at the station that he realizes he hasn't called Kairi yet, so he dials her number and listens to the ring which echoes in his head and makes him want to rip something apart. She picks up after four. _"Hello?"_

Her voice is loud and obnoxious but he hides his irritation when he replies, "Hey, Kai."

"_I was worried, you idiot. We called and called, and left messages, and your door wasn't even unlocked-"_

"I know, and I'm sorry. I just got sucked into my writing. It happens all the time; it just doesn't usually happen when you're already worried. I'm sorry."

"_Well, what are you doing now?"_

He hesitates for a moment, and decides to lie. He doesn't lie to _her_ very often because she's family, but Kairi doesn't need any more worries. "I'm just about to go to bed. Why don't we meet up somewhere tomorrow evening?"

He can hear the smile in her voice when she answers, _"Okay. Thanks for letting us know you're okay. Naminé and I are actually in Traverse Town to negotiate prices for the next launch, but we'll be home tomorrow afternoon. Love you, Axel. Stay safe."_

"Love you too, Kai," he murmurs, wondering why that suddenly leaves a bad taste in his mouth. "See you tomorrow."

After he cancels the call, he feels a chilling wind sweep over him and leaves him shivering despite the warm layers he's wearing. He pulls the hood up to cover his wet head, and when he boards the tram people inch away from him. He doesn't know why, but if he doesn't have to stand near them, he doesn't care.

He jogs from the station to Market Square, passes the jewelry store and the church, and turns onto Memory Lane. He leans down and puts his hands on his knees to catch his breath – the life of a writer isn't very full of exercise – and continues at a much slower pace. He passes 3610 and 3611, but there's a wall running between 3611 and 3613. He sighs, frustrated, before noticing a strange crack in the wall; once he ducks into it, he follows a sort of woodsy trail to the biggest house he's ever seen. It's not just a house; it's a mansion.

There are statues and stones in the courtyard and at dusk they remind him of gravestones; but of course, no one would have a cemetery in front of their house, and he awkwardly stands on the low stone porch before knocking on the door.

He's suddenly on edge, and when a pretty blonde woman with strange hair and poisonous green eyes opens the door, he swallows and can't say anything for several moments. Her lips curve into a malicious smirk and she doesn't wait for him to introduce himself.

"My name is Larxene," she says, but her polite tone is laced with something much more sinister, complemented by her faint accent. "I'll be your…_hostess _this evening. Please, _do_ come in."

He follows her inside and hears the click of a lock; he jumps, but she gives him an almost honest smile. "Kids like to come exploring. We don't like unexpected visitors, so we lock them out. There are a lot of valuable things in here; look, in this case we have the famous glass slippers of Cinderella. Over there," she continues, pointing to a painting, "is the original of the famous "Beauty and the Beast." I'm sure you can see why we lock people out."

He can, but he wonders why she's showing him around the mansion like it's a museum when there's going to be a party.

The foyer is huge and his eyes take in the random tables and bits of furniture which look utterly out of place in a pristine house like this. He's already noticed that it's the cleanest home he's ever seen, and he starts violently when someone steps out from the shadows.

It's Roxas; he's sure of it; and the man moves like a ballerina, all liquid and precise steps. Axel doesn't know how he missed the guy, since he seems to simply _shine, _but he _does _realize he's backed against the wall by the door for some unknown reason. He's trembling and something tells him it has nothing to do with the chill in the house, though that probably has something to do with the intensity.

The smile he's given is probably the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, besides the eyes above it, and the dark rings of exhaustion only serve to bring out the color.

_Ce-ru-le-an, _his brain whispers, and he bites his lip as he watches Roxas come closer-closer-closer.

"I'm Roxas," the blond says, after he's merely a foot away from Axel. His proximity lays a spell on his body, and his breathing hitches when the man continues, "But you already knew that."

It's not really a question at all, but Axel nods anyway because he doesn't feel capable of doing anything else. Roxas is quite a bit shorter than him, but he's also taller than everyone else he knows so that doesn't mean much. Something in Roxas' eyes catches him and holds him, and he vaguely hears Larxene's malicious snickers in the background.

His eyes are _ce-ru-le-an, _and Axel is only vaguely surprised when Roxas kisses him. The surprise comes from the fact that his wife is right there, laughing about the situation, watching her husband kiss another man; but that vague thought gets pushed out quickly and he's not surprised any more because he can't do anything except kiss back.

He makes a noise he's never heard himself make, and wraps his arms around the short blond. The blond is _scrawny _and _weak _and _pa-the-tic, _and suddenly something _snaps _and it's _Roxas _against the wall instead. Axel is leaning forward with his hands against the wall on either side of Roxas' head, and _Blondie-blonde-blond _doesn't ever close his eyes.

_Ce-ru-le-an _beauty hazes in front of him and he bites down on the Boy's lower lip. The boy yowls like a cat and his wife cackles in the background and he doesn't care that this is _wro-ng. _The Boy arches when Axel does something with his hands (he's not really paying attention to them), and moves his lips to his jaw.

Roxas' lips are soft and _in-sis-tent_ but that's the _only _force he's showing, and he continues from Axel's jaw to the underside of his chin, all the way down his neck to his collarbones and up the other side. Axel can see Roxas' pupils dilate, and he does something with his tongue which makes _vi-o-lent_ shudders run through Axel's _en-tire_ body. He keeps doing whatever he was doing before with his hands, but Larxene isn't laughing now and she's actually pulling him off her husband with _sur-pri-sing-ly_ muscular arms.

She isn't angry; but she shakes Roxas, whose pupils are still dilated. He's still panting, like he's out of breath and it all looks so _er-o-tic _to him that he has to look away for a moment or push Larxene and kiss Roxas again.

"What are you _doing," _she hisses, shaking the blond again. His head lolls like he has no control over his body, and if he's really as weak as he seems, perhaps he doesn't.

He only looks at her _help-less-ly_ and shrugs, like words are beyond him. She sighs and stops shaking him, drawing him into a _sur-pri-sing-ly_ tender embrace.

"Don't do this to yourself," she whispers, and captures his lips for a moment. His eyes return to normal and Axel realizes he's an outsider, who's been kissed by a stranger. His head is clear now, and he feels a bit disgusted with himself; he _let _it happen. He's never been attracted to a man before, and this doesn't really bother him because he can't remember being attracted to a woman either, but to be so passionate about a man he's just met makes him uneasy. He let a man kiss him in front of the man's wife, and enjoyed it more than almost anything.

She slaps Roxas, _hard, _and though he rubs his reddening cheek he's smiling and looking at her with a strange mix of love and irritation. "Good old Larx," he says. "I was afraid you'd gone soft."

The blond composes himself and speaks to Axel again, as if the last few minutes didn't happen. "My guests will be arriving soon. We'd love it if you'd stay."

He has no intention to leave the mansion, even though there's a part of his brain _begging _him to go before it's too late. He simply wanders over to the couch and sits, and after a few minutes a knock is heard. Larxene opens the door and a stream of guests pour in; one of them seems to recognize him and heads toward his couch.

"Hello again," he says, and his voice is strange. There's something in his green snake eyes which makes Axel want to squirm in disgust, but the smile is genial enough; the long blond hair drapes just past his shoulders and although it makes for an imposing image, Axel isn't intimidated in the least.

"I'm afraid I don't remember you," he admits.

The man shrugs. "That's all right. I would be surprised if you did. Tonight you look exhausted."

He is; he knows he has horrible dark circles, because he saw himself in the mirror before he left his house. He is fatigued and his strange encounter with Roxas has left him dazed. "Yeah, I'm pretty tired."

The man smiles politely and says, "Come on; Larx always has coffee in the kitchen. I'll get you some."

At this point, Axel thinks the blond man is his momentary best friend and he nods. "Thanks. I'll follow you into the kitchen."

Though he's taller than the man, he can't seem to keep up and when he pushes the door to the kitchen open, a hot cup is pushed into his hands. "Please, drink up; we had a pleasant conversation last time you were here. I'd love to see your ideas tonight."

Axel drains the cup and notices that it's perfectly bitter; he smiles in a very genuine way and nods to the man. "What was your name again?"

He smirks and replies, "I'm Vexen. And you're Axel. I figured you wouldn't remember me."

Axel tries to remember where he's heard that name before and why his stomach suddenly sinks to his shoes. It takes him several minutes, by which time his head is hazy and his eyes feel too wide. He gasps when he realizes this is the man Kairi was angry with.

"You're the guy who drugged me last week," he says. He tries to sound accusing, but he feels a little helpless and he wonders if it was like this last time too.

"Guilty as charged," is the reply, but Vexen's tone is sardonic and his laugh is chillingly slick. Axel backs toward the door and Vexen notices but doesn't move to follow. He only directs his full attention to Axel, and says, "You already belong to Roxas. I'm just making this easier for you."

Vexen doesn't strike him as a philanthropist, but he trusts in those words because Vexen really seems genuine about this. He wonders what the blond means when he says he belongs to Roxas, but his mouth doesn't work very well.

When he exits the kitchen, he sees a very large group of people in the foyer and as soon as he sits down someone hands him a bottle of something. His head's too fuzzy to read the label, and he's too preoccupied with wondering why only _one _dose of whatever Vexen gave him has made him like this anyway. He chugs it when the word _cerulean _comes to mind; he's sure it's not the name of the drink, but it sounds good enough.

* * *

He sees the Boy and he wants to kill the blonde bitch beside him. He's on the other side of the room, sitting at a table and drinking something that looks dark, like red wine. At a party like _this._ What a pussy. Axel has a bottle of Ce-ru-le-an in his hand, and he knows it's not called that but he doesn't really give a fuck. It's good and it's hard and it tastes like blue.

Blondie-blonde-blond meets his eyes and his lips curl up into a sly smirk; he drains his glass in one inappropriately large gulp (even _Axel _knows that's not how it goes) and licks his lips with the very tip of his tongue. He excuses himself to the blonde with antennae beside him, who digs her nails into his skin hard enough to draw blood. The Boy doesn't bleed, though he flinches, and he says something which makes the woman let go.

He glides through the mass of people like it's _nothing-nothing-nothing _at all, and his walk is so seductive Axel wonders if that's even legal. He leans his head back and gazes down his nose as the Boy comes closer, closer, closer; and then he's sitting next to the beautiful Boy and being suffocated by his very proximity.

"How do you like my party, Axel? You're not nearly as gone as you were last time."

"S gr-r-reat-t," he says, laughing because his mouth won't _work._

The Boy laughs too, and it's so rich and _se-duc-tive _Axel can barely stand it. "Did you take any of Xaldin's pills," he asks, in a _won-der-ful _singsong voice.

"D-d-don't kn-now who Xald-d-din is, b-but th-ey-y wer-r-r-re a lot," he replies. His lips and tongue feel funny and he feels like he could ride on the wind and the Boy caresses his face.

It's only one fingertip, and he's only tracing Axel's birthmarks, but it's _completely _in-tox-i-cat-ing.

He makes a noise which sounds kind of like a cat's purr, and he laughs again. The Boy leans forward and licks his ear slowly, and it sends de-_light-_ful shivers down his spine; he turns his head quickly and catches Blondie-blonde-blond's lips roughly. As soon as he wraps his arms around the Boy he goes boneless, weak and _pa-the-tic._

He hears himself make a possessive growling noise, and he pulls away only to stand and drag the Boy up with him. They make their ways up the stairs and Axel sees a fuckin' _weird _painting. It's all distorted and the guy's face is open in a permanent, silent scream. He shivers in vague fear, even though the painting is fucking _awesome, _and the Boy follows him obediently into a bedroom he vaguely recognizes. There are bookcases on nearly every part of the walls and black curtains covering the window, but he's not paying attention to _them. _Instead, he's paying attention to Blondie-blonde-blond who suddenly gains _sus-pi-cious _strength and pushes him onto his back on the bed.

But the Boy rubs his arms as if in pain, and Axel laughs because damn, but that's pa-the-tic.

The Boy looms over him for a moment and kisses him softly, all the while unfastening Axel's pants. Then he pulls away and his face disappears and he's almost getting irritated but then his whole _body _jerks because _fuck, _but that's _hot._

* * *

The Boy is lying beside him, still fully clothed and looking cool as a fucking _cucumber. _Axel blinks, because suddenly everything dissolves into numbers and symbols and it's _a-ma-zing._

"Ar-r-re we in-n the Mmmatrix," he asks, laughing because he's pretty sure they're _not. _

"Yeah," Blondie-blonde-blond whispers from beside him, and then brings his lips right next to Axel's ear. His breath touches him _just so, _and he jerks when the Boy continues, "And you're the _One."_

He laughs because the Boy is laughing, and then he realizes something so suddenly it almost _hurts. _"H—hey, you'r-r-re Roooxas."

"That I am," Roxas replies, and cocks his head. "How could you _possibly _figure that out?" The tone is sarcastic and Axel knows Roxas is just kidding. It's _pa-the-tic._

"You alw-w-ways sm-mell l-l-lik-ke rose milk-k-k."

Roxas looks truly surprised, but after a moment shrugs and Axel is suddenly _ir-ri-ta-ted._

But Roxas decides kissing is more important than talking and Axel _com-plete-ly _agrees.

* * *

He wakes, alone, in what seems to be a library. He's sprawled across the table in the middle of the room; the wood is a rich cherry color and it's pleasing to the eye but not so pleasing to his back.

He aches.

He sits up slowly, quietly; something in the back of his mind whispers for him to _be. Careful. _He feels like he should have a headache but his head is perfectly fine. He creeps to the door, and hears faint voices from somewhere beyond it; a man and a woman, and they seem to be arguing.

"You're on thin ice," the woman whispers. He thinks her voice might be nice, but she sounds angry and he's suddenly, randomly, terrified.

"Don't worry; I've got everything under control," the man replies. That beautiful voice sends shivers down his spine, and Axel catches a flash of cerulean eyes and fluidity out of nowhere.

"You always say that, but remember what happened _last _time?"

The woman's voice is soft, but dangerous and broken all at once and for a moment there's silence. Axel wonders if they've moved on but then the man replies, in a deadly whisper, "Of course I do. But that won't happen again."

"He _intoxicates _you,"she hisses. "You can't ignore that. _I _can't ignore that! I won't let you go if you're just going to destroy yourself. If you won't exterminate the nuisance, I'll do it myself."

Axel flinches at the hardness of the man's voice when he replies. "Don't think about it, Firefly. I would not hesitate to exterminate _you."_

"…You're an asshole," the woman says, but she doesn't sound frightened. "You think you could really bring yourself to do it?"

"Better to not chance it, hmm?"

Axel is struck by the tired sadness of the man's voice. He hears footsteps coming toward his door, so he scurries back to the table and sits, rubbing a palm in his right eye as the door opens. He looks up, as if surprised.

"How did you sleep," the man asks. Axel recognizes the voice as the male arguer, and it's even more beautiful up close. It sends a thrill to his chest and it takes him several moments to collect his thoughts.

"Fine," he replies. "Where is this place? As a matter of fact…who are you?"

For a fraction of a second, the man looks completely devastated; but before Axel can even wonder why, the look is gone and a pleasant smile has replaced it. "My name is Roxas. You are in my library."

"This…is all yours?"

It's the most beautiful room he's ever seen. It's incredibly large, and there are more books than Axel would know what to do with. He spies a section for books in other languages, and he's impressed; there's French, Finnish, Russian, Hindi, Latin, and several other languages he doesn't even recognize. He gazes around in wonder and breathes, "It's amazing."

Roxas looks pleased. "It's my greatest joy…next to my wife."

Axel looks at him curiously; the woman must have been his wife. But if Roxas wouldn't hesitate to kill her…then how can she be his greatest joy? "Wife?"

The laugh is silky, elegant, and warms Axel inside. "The lovely Larxene Anderson; the most beautiful woman I've ever met. Her mother was American, her father was Swedish, and she grew up in Russia. She's only been here in this place for six years. She tried to teach me Russian, but…I never quite got the hang of it, I'm afraid."

There's something strange beneath Roxas' measured speech; he can't decide if it's warm or cold, and those cerulean eyes flash fiercely for only a moment. Axel is unnerved, though he doesn't know why.

"So…those books are hers, then?"

"Yes." For the first time, Roxas steps into the room from the doorway. He moves like a ballerina, graceful and fluid. He moves past Axel and seems to exude the scent of rose milk from every pore; stopping at a shadowy section in the corner, he slides a book out. It's new, but worn; the pages are dog-eared and Axel can tell it's well-loved.

"This is my favorite," Roxas says, gliding over to Axel and sitting beside him on the table. He hands the book over and Axel's breathing stops for a moment.

The author is A. Blaze; the cover displays an old, gnarled tree. The title is _"Oathkeeper and Oblivion;" _Axel knows without looking at the back that it's about a broken promise and a broken man, chasing something he can never have.

He wrote it, after all.

"It's…uh…I've heard of it before," he says lamely, scratching his cheek in confusion. It's his first book, the only one he's ever published, and it didn't do well; no one has ever mentioned it to him before, and he doesn't know how to tell this beautiful, graceful man that he's written it.

Roxas chuckles. "Yes, I suppose you have, Mr. Firaga."

He thinks maybe Roxas just complimented him; he _feels _complimented, but that may just be because many people don't know about the book. He's not sure if Roxas knows he's the author, but he thinks he probably does.

"You know what my favorite part is? The beginning, just before Ren disappears. They…they have a bond, Alex and Ren. Something most _married _couples would _kill _for, and they're not even…involved." Roxas is gazing at something on the wall Axel can't see, and he seems…sad. "It makes me wonder what Ren was running from."

"She's not running from anything. She's trying to find something she thinks she's missing," Axel puts in, before he realizes Roxas really isn't talking to him any more.

"That's what she says. I suppose you'd know better than I would, but I wonder if maybe that's just what she tells herself in order to justify it."

Axel starts; but not because Roxas knows he's the author. He suspected that, anyway; but Roxas couldn't know about the conversation he had with Ren, two weeks before he finished revising. She told him she'd always been afraid of her own heart…and that Alex was too wonderful to trust.

"I…yeah. That's what she says," he murmurs.

"You speak with your characters?"

"I know, it's crazy. But I don't seek them out; they come to me and I'm helpless to refuse their demands. My parents used to think I'm crazy."

"It's not crazy," Roxas says, and when he runs his fingers over the back of Axel's hand he feels like he's more alive than he's ever been. "You're an artist. It's beautiful."

Roxas flips his hand over and runs a fingertip over the lines in his palm. He's never bothered to find out about palmistry, and he knows that's not what this is, but he's pretty sure it's not supposed to feel so…amazing. He's not sure whether every nerve in his body is jumping, or if he's more relaxed than he's ever been in his life.

"Your skin is very soft," the blond murmurs as he trails delicate fingers over the veins in Axel's wrist. His skin tingles and the touch makes him feel like Roxas is an old friend, but that's impossible because he's –

"I've heard of you before," he says suddenly.

The fingers stop for a moment and the man beside him tenses up briefly, but when he speaks, his voice is still the silky elegance he's heard all morning. "Oh? Where have you heard of me?"

"My sister and her girlfriend told me about you. My sister is Kairi and her girlfriend is your sister, Naminé."

Roxas sighs, and when Axel glances at his face there is a strange smile playing across his lips. "She's not actually related by blood, you know. Demyx is his parents' only child; his birth nearly killed his mother. I was adopted with my twin, Sora, at three; Naminé was adopted at six. We fit together, though, don't we?"

His breath hitches when Roxas' hand moves from his forearm to his jaw. "Y-yeah. You – do."

"Listen," Roxas says earnestly, leaning into Axel and catching his gaze. "I think that you-"

"Well don't you two look cozy," a woman says from the doorway. Axel recognizes her voice; she's the same woman who was arguing with Roxas behind the door. For some strange reason he knows that she is Larxene, Roxas' wife.

"Ah, Larx. Join us, will you?"

She shakes her head and smiles; it's more of a smirk than anything, and it's directed toward Axel. He feels, for some reason, that she's judging him; that she knows exactly how Roxas makes him feel, and she's amused. Her poisonous eyes narrow slightly, and she seems sinister…a force to be reckoned with.

She opens her pretty mouth, and the words which fly out are sultry and deceptively gentle. "I actually came to remind you that Demyx is coming to pick up his sitar. I'll be out for a few hours; when I get back, he'll be with me."

He waves her off. "Fine, fine. If you won't join us, then I suppose we'll have to leave the library; the light coming through the windows is giving me a headache anyway."

Roxas slides off the table, and glides to the door; he pauses to kiss his wife and murmur something into her ear. She snickers in a very unnerving way; but she gives him another kiss before leaving the doorway. Roxas beckons to Axel and he follows confusedly. The interaction is puzzling and Axel doesn't know if Roxas meant to make him feel the way he did.

"You can sit in the armchair," the blond says, waving at a stuffed pink armchair in the corner of the foyer. It's angled perfectly to catch the only rays of sun peeking through a narrow slit in the dark violet curtains; he appreciates the light, and also the view of Roxas disappearing through another door.

Moments later, he emerges with a tray of food and drink; Axel didn't realize it before now, but he's hungry. He hasn't eaten anything in two days and his stomach growls when he smells fruit.

"Larx made waffles before she left," Roxas says, setting the tray on a small table beside the chair Axel didn't notice when he sat down. "She's secretly very domestic; it's rather amusing. I hope you like raspberries and blackberries, because those are the only fruits I could find. That cup has hot lemon water in it; your face tells me you've not been sleeping, and I doubt you need caffeine at a time like this."

"Raspberries and blackberries are the best fruits I can think of," he says, mostly because he hasn't had fruit in weeks and he's craving something sweet. "I can't even remember the last time I had waffles. Thanks for this."

"What _have _you eaten in the last forty-eight hours?"

He frowns thoughtfully; he can't remember if that rice was on Wednesday or Thursday, but he doesn't want Roxas to know how poor he really is. "Some rice and oatmeal. I got caught up in a project, and I didn't want to cook a decent meal."

Most of that is a lie; if he _had _a way to cook a decent meal, he'd do it in a heartbeat.

"Liar. You didn't cook because that's all you have."

He's a little irritated at the neutral tone in which Roxas speaks, but mostly he's irritated that Roxas is _right. _"Why would you think _that?"_

The only answer he receives is, "Rice and oatmeal are the _only _staples in the kitchen of a starving artist. You're a bit too scrawny to hide that from someone who cares."

Being called scrawny irks him, but at least Roxas isn't mocking him. Axel remembers his words and asks, "To someone who cares? Would that be _you?"_

"I wouldn't bother to bring it up if I didn't care, would I?"

He's not sure what to say to that, but he suspects Roxas wants him to say no. Axel doesn't know if 'no' is really what he thinks, though, so he shrugs. It's neutral and noncommittal; he thinks Roxas will probably see through it, but he strikes Axel as the type who doesn't push emotional situations.

"I do care," Roxas informs quietly, resting his chin on his palm. His elbow is resting on the side of a green wooden chair, which looks very uncomfortable but Roxas seems unaffected and Axel decides breakfast is more important than thinking because he's _starving._

After one bite he decides that Larxene is an angel in a very, _very_ good disguise, because these waffles are heavenly. It might be because he hasn't eaten well in weeks, but he's guessing it's because everything in this house is perfect…including, he suspects, its inhabitants.

"I see you like my wife's cooking," the blond says, leaning forward and flashing him an almost devious smile. "That's something we have in common. I'm afraid I can't cook well; my…adventures…usually end with the screeching of the smoke detectors."

Axel's mouth is full, so he can't answer verbally, but he nods. As soon as he swallows, he voices something that's been bothering him all morning because he needs to know if it's just him being crazy again. "You seem so happy with Larxene…"

"Yes. We love each other very much."

Axel thinks his face is probably scrunched up in confusion but he can't see himself so maybe it's not, but something's wrong with his face because it feels weird. "Then what was…this morning all about?"

Roxas laughs and considering the situation it should put Axel on his guard, but for some reason it doesn't and he wonders if this is what Kairi was talking about when she said he has an effect on people.

"You absolutely fascinate me, Axel. You are antisocial and quiet, but not because you're unintelligent or shy; you watch and observe and you know when to keep your mouth shut. I've met you before…you just…don't remember. But as soon as you lose your inhibitions, you become a completely different person. You are amiable and unreserved, and yet you keep that creativity I see in your book. I love Larxene…there's no question about that. But she knows exactly what this is about, and though she doesn't agree, it's not because she doesn't approve."

He's absolutely baffled and his mouth hangs open, before he realizes he's still eating and he swallows so food doesn't fall out. He's not sure, but he _thinks _Roxas is telling him that his wife approves of…whatever it is he's doing with Axel, which looks more and more like flirting of some kind. "What do you mean by that? What _is _this about?"

"Don't worry; I'm not trying to…I think the phrase is 'get into your pants.' But I won't deny it; I want to kiss you again, and again after that." He locks eyes with Axel and the intensity of his gaze is both unnerving and amazing. "I want to spend time with you; I want to become much more than acquaintances. Larx's concerns are justified, but long before we got married, we had an agreement; she just doesn't like that it's _you."_

It's confusing and he's suddenly irked because not only is Roxas hiding something, but Naminé and even his own _sister _are being secretive _about _Roxas and he is so far removed from the loop that he can't even see it and he wants to scream, or hit something, or maybe take Roxas up on his offer so he can _forget-forget-forget._

"What…exactly was this agreement?"

Roxas pauses for a moment and he looks to be searching for the right words; he sighs and Axel suddenly becomes anxious. In a flat, frank tone, Roxas answers, "We married out of…obligation. That's not to say we don't love each other; it would never have worked, if we didn't. She has something special that I need; and I have something special that _she _needs. She saved me, and _continues _to save me every day; but I promised I would keep looking, because she asked it of me and she is…my weakness. I find it difficult to deny her anything; it's part of our relationship."

"What does that…have to do with _me?" _He's puzzled and nervous and unsure of whether he wants the answer; but the question is out now so it's not like he has a choice.

"You have all she has and more; I know it is true because this is not the second, or even the fifth time we've met…but it seems that you never remember me. It is…unfortunate."

He frowns, partly out of confusion and partly out of anger. "So you want to…use me?"

"In a way, I suppose," Roxas acquiesces. "But, as I said, I am not aiming to take you to bed. You are different; you stand out in a way very few can. I am interested in getting to know you, but it is ultimately your choice."

"Why…why does your wife not approve of me," he asks, before finishing the waffle on his plate.

"You remind her of someone she knew long ago, and she is nervous. She is in no way sentimental, at least outwardly, but something very deep inside drives her to protect those she cares about."

The berries are gone now, and Axel watches Roxas gaze at something invisible near the middle of the foyer. His face is neutral, but Axel _knows _he's sad and frustrated and angry, even. He doesn't know how to react to this; Roxas is offering him something he's never had before and hasn't ever _wanted _before and he would say no but Roxas is _intoxicating. _If he can make Axel's nerves sing just by touching his hand, he wants to see what would happen if they were closer…and that's more than a little frightening.

There's a familiarity around Roxas that he can't place, and he thinks that maybe he _has _met Roxas before last night and one week ago. Every moment he spends with the blond makes him want more-more-_more, _and he chooses.

* * *

There's something intensely amazing about kissing Axel never knew about. He never quite understood why kissing was so special to people; but he thinks maybe now he gets it because Roxas fits against him perfectly and he smells amazing and it's something like a practiced dance, though he doesn't remember ever doing it. They're in another upstairs bedroom, breathing and moving and _feeling, _and it's nothing and everything and it all makes every kind of no sense at all.

He feels as if he's holding something precious in his arms, something that will break if it drops or if he squeezes too hard, and that may be so, if he's as sick as Naminé says. Roxas is relatively silent, but Axel isn't making much noise either and it seems almost sacred, what they're doing. It's not, and he knows it – Roxas is still married – but that thought slips away as soon as it comes because it's very, _very _hard to think.

Roxas does a-ma-zing things with his fingertips and his lips and his tongue and Axel's whole reality shifts suddenly and it's _com-plete-ly in-tox-i-ca-ting. _His senses attack each other and brawl in his brain and it's all he can do to keep from snapping. All he knows at this point is ce-ru-le-an and _Roxas-Roxas-Roxas._

It's something possessive and forward and _predatory _that brings him back a little, because he _knows _Roxas-Roxas-_Roxas _is the same Boy he's been chasing in his dreams of forgettable reality, even though he doesn't know the Boy but Roxas is sick and breakable and even though it strains him and makes him physically _hurt _he calls off the monster threatening to break through and disconnects their lips and their chests and their beings.

He closes his eyes and hears gasping, and after listening to Roxas' heart pound rapid rhythms in his chest he realizes it's himself and tries to take deep breaths but fails because Roxas is _still touching him._

"I…need…I need…"

"What do you need," Roxas breathes, and it's a question and a promise and something else he can't understand.

"I…space!" And he can still barely breathe so it comes out again, in a gasp. "Space, I need it."

It's only a few seconds before Roxas is lying on the opposite side of the king-sized bed, clutching his chest and gazing at Axel like he's the solution to all the world's problems. He knows he probably has the same expression on his face; he thinks he must look pained, though, because Roxas' presence is always suffocating in the most amazing way.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, and he feels strangely and almost inappropriately pleased that for once Roxas can only nod slowly and pierce him with the cerulean darts he calls eyes.

Roxas stretches out his hand between them and Axel does the same and even though it's only their fingers touching it's the most intimate _(slowbreathsslowbeatingdontletgo) _thing he's experienced, or ever thought he would experience.

A sudden thought crosses his mind and at any other time it might make him guilty, but it only makes him amazed that if Larxene is an angel Roxas must be a god.

* * *

Kairi calls and tells him she and Naminé are back in town, and he only has an hour to get ready so Roxas tells him he can use the bathroom down the hall. They haven't spoken since their sudden separation, and Roxas' voice seems hoarse even though he didn't sleep and Axel knows this because they looked at each other the whole time and he drowned in oceans of cerulean.

He vaguely hopes Roxas will join him but he knows that's not going to happen because Roxas isn't looking for sex or even sensuality. Axel doesn't know how he knows this but somehow it's clear that kisses, for Roxas, are the best way to find out about a person and somehow this makes sense even though it doesn't really.

When he steps out, he sees some of his own clothes folded on the counter; a pair of black slacks and a black tee-shirt, and he vaguely recognizes them as the clothing he couldn't find just before he started writing. It's disconcerting but he's not going to worry about it because if Roxas was telling the truth earlier then maybe he left them at some point.

He notices a design on the floor which matches the design on the ceiling in the bedroom and the design on two of the tables he's seen and he thinks it's beautiful but he doesn't know why. It's some sort of weird geometric nightmare and for a moment useless words like 'theorem' and 'postulate' run through his brain until he realizes he's still naked and starting to get cold.

He dresses and grimaces because there's a bad taste in his mouth – the taste of morning and spiders and fear. He's not afraid and he's pretty goddamn sure he didn't eat any spiders and it's evening, but he didn't have a chance to brush his teeth this morning and damn, how did Roxas _manage _that?

After a few moments he opens the door and pokes his head into the hallway. He sees a fuckin' weird painting – the man's mouth is wide open and it's distorted in most places and he vaguely recognizes it as "The Scream" from Edvard Munch. It seems horribly familiar but out-of-place but only in his brain because it looks perfect on the wall.

The man inside him beats on his brain and shouts and tells him he's being neglected and tells him to get back to writing because the story's not over and he turns his eyes away from the painting because his head is starting to hurt.

Roxas comes up in front of him and shields him from the painting's haunting eyes and seems to know how bad his head hurts because he doesn't say anything when he hands over a toothbrush.

Axel takes it and brushes his teeth with vigor and rushes to the front door and ignores his growing headache because he's used to them. It's a writer thing, he thinks, or maybe just an artist thing. He wonders inanely if Edvard Munch ever got headaches and then he laughs at himself because _everyone _gets headaches and it's not like he can go up to him and ask anyway.

Roxas walks up behind him and touches his shoulder, making his entire body sing a strange song in a foreign language which is becoming familiar but he still can't quite make it out.

"I'm glad you stayed today," he says softly. "I'm also glad that you will remember. I will look into the holes in your memory, and if at all possible, fix the problem. I'd like to see you again."

Axel opens his mouth and closes it several times, choking on air which doesn't really make sense but it does anyway. "I'd…love to see you again," he breathes.

"Will you come back tomorrow?"

"Of course," he finds himself saying, though common sense is telling him to wait for a while.

"Your sister will wonder where you are."

For a moment he thinks Roxas knows about the warning he got from Kairi and Naminé, but he shrugs it off and says, "The café is near here and…oh, shit. Um, well, it was nice to…uh…meet you? Except not?"

Roxas laughs that silky, elegant laugh which _sounds_ mocking but is truly amused. "Yes. I'll see you tomorrow."

Axel leaves the house in a daze, and when he gets to the café he orders water and nothing else and says he's not hungry, because he doesn't have any money on him but he doesn't want Kairi to know because she'll insist on helping him.

Throughout the whole encounter he finds it difficult to concentrate, because he can only think of elegance and grace and silk and cerulean.

Ce-ru-le-an.

It's like a beautiful dream come true.


	2. Part II

**Part II**

* * *

It's Tuesday and the headache hasn't eased at all and he can hardly deal with it even though he's had practice. The man inside him is knocking even more persistently and he knows he needs to give in but every time he sits down to write all that comes out are sonnets of cerulean and epithets to elegance.

_His stare, a sharp and piercing haze_

_His voice, a smooth and sweet caress_

_His charm, a calm and quiet gaze_

_His lips, a perfect measured press_

And there's more, more, more, and the man inside is shouting at him to stop writing nonsense, stop _thinking _nonsense, ignore the urge to finish that sappy sonnet and let him take control. He wishes he could but he can only see cerulean haze and he can't relax.

And there's more, more, more, and he has to clench his fists in order to stop himself from picking up that pen again. He doesn't trust himself to start typing because he knows his words will take the shape of a beautiful man who is a god in human's clothing and is married to an angel in devil's clothing.

The man in his head pounds on the inside of his skull again and he can't tell whether he's going to laugh or cry because it hurts and he's never been able to ignore the pleas and demands of the people inside his head but fuck, all he wants is to see Roxas again.

It's only been two days and he already has something like withdrawals and he thinks maybe Kairi meant that Roxas is a drug, because Axel suddenly can't get enough.

* * *

It's two weeks later and the man inside has quieted. Axel feels like a lost cause – he has finally relaxed enough to write, and now there's nothing to record. He wants to see Roxas again but he doesn't because he knows the man inside will come back, eventually. He wants to be prepared when it happens.

But when he wakes up in cold sweats and has to run to the bathroom to retch he realizes there's more to this than he suspected and he suspects Roxas doesn't know the extent of it either. It's more than just being addicted to Roxas, he's addicted to that house and the dream just now was about a man with blond hair and a cup of drugged coffee.

He thinks maybe these _withdrawals _are not emotional but _physical, _and he doesn't know what he's missing but he knows he'll go insane if he keeps missing it. He doesn't know what to do and he doesn't know how to do it but he _does _know he needs to go back to that house, back to Roxas, back to the singing of his every nerve and the kisses which leave him incapacitated.

It doesn't take him very long to dress and he realizes he's been eating less than usual, because his regular clothes hang off his frame and his face is unusually pale and sunken. He's colder than he should be, even in winter, and he doesn't remember the last time he even picked up a fork or a spoon or a _bowl._

Within minutes he's on the free tram and thinking, thinking, thinking. And then he's racing toward Memory Lane and trying, trying, _trying not to think. _But then he's in front of the house and he realizes how rash this is and how weird it'll look to Roxas and Larxene and anyone else who might be there.

He knocks on the door, and there's no answer. He doesn't know why he suddenly grabs the knob and twists, but it's unlocked and he thinks that's strange until he sees all the people and he realizes he's just walked into another party. He makes it a point to avoid the snake-green eyes which haunt his dreams, and instead pushes through the throngs of people and keeps an eye out for Roxas or _even _Larxene because she'll most likely know where he is.

He finds Roxas in the kitchen, drinking something dark like red wine out of a large goblet of some kind and sitting on the table. He's alone, which seems strange until Axel realizes that Roxas isn't exactly a _social _type. He wonders why Roxas even _throws _these parties, but he must have his reasons because he does it a lot, apparently.

Roxas' eyes go very, very wide.

"Axel? You're…I didn't expect…"

It's sort of but not really nice to see Roxas lose his composure for a moment, because it reminds Axel of Roxas' humanity but it takes away from the picture of a god in his mind. He can't decide whether he wants to worship the blond or throw him down on a bed somewhere, and he settles for wanting to worship his body and replies, "Uh…I know I wasn't invited, but I wanted to see you again."

It's sort of but not really an apology and he fidgets slightly when Roxas only stares over the rim of his odd goblet. After the last of the liquid (he's sure it's red wine, by now) is gone, Roxas hops off the counter and slowly approaches him. "You wanted to…see me."

It's a question disguised as a statement just like Larxene is an angel disguised as a devil and the odd (incorrect) thought makes him laugh outright. "Of course I did. I wouldn't have come, otherwise."

"That's…good."

And they're kissing again, and his nerves are singing again, and there's a biting taste on his tongue – metallic and bitter – but it's not a bad kind of bitter. It's bitter like salt and sweet, like sea-salt ice cream, like Roxas himself and he catches the scent of rose milk.

He threads his fingers through Roxas' hair, marveling at the softness of it and bringing the man closer to his body. He might be a year younger but he's also taller, and he might not be the _strongest _person but Roxas seems almost _too _weak. He's sick but no one could be _that _sick and for a moment he entertains the thought that Roxas might be faking weakness. But he disregards it quickly; partly because Roxas doesn't have a reason to do that but mostly because Roxas makes a sound which is a cross between a moan and a purr and his whole. World. _Shifts._

And suddenly he realizes that the Boy is _pa-the-tic _and he can't get enough of that ce-ru-le-an gaze. Roxas' nails are digging into his hips harshly but not deep enough to draw blood and his hip is digging into Axel's pelvis and he's so se-duc-tive he can barely breathe.

But _no, _this is _his time. _He makes a growling noise he doesn't remember making but he kind of does and pulls the Boy as close as he can without actually meshing their bodies completely.

Cerulean. _Cerulean. _Ce-ru-le-an, and it's all over his body and in his head and _fuck, fuck, fuck _that feels de-li-cious.

There's something feral and foreign and com-plete-ly terrifying taking over his psyche, but he has enough _Axel _left to remember that this is Roxas, the same Roxas who has him running to a party in a mansion on a Monday night and he's afraid he's going to ruin things somehow so he pulls away and puts his hand over his chest.

He realizes he's panting, and Roxas is too, and something about the way Roxas' chest rises and falls in an erratic pattern brings him completely back to reality.

Roxas tentatively reaches out a hand and Axel takes it, and he tries to ignore the prickling of his skin. He follows Roxas out of the kitchen and up the stairs and past the painting which haunts him from behind and they're soon in the same bedroom as before – the one with all the books. He wonders how many Roxas has, if he has to store them in his bedroom as well as in the library, but it's only a passing thought because as soon as they're lying down (facing each other, on opposite sides, fingers barely touching and so, _so _intimate) Roxas starts speaking.

"Larxene was right," he breathes, looking at Axel in something like wonder.

"What do you mean?" He's confused and his voice is just as breathy as Roxas' and somehow it sounds vulnerable and he doesn't like it.

"She told me…that you intoxicate me. She told me I should get rid of you."

He doesn't really know if he should be afraid or not so he asks, "Are you going to get rid of me?"

"Don't be stupid. You're like a rose; I can't just strip you bare and throw you away. I have to keep you around until you're old and tired because you're also like a drug."

"That's very far-sighted of you," he states, because he doesn't know what else to say.

Roxas scoots a tiny bit closer and asks, "Is that a refusal?"

"Of course not," he scoffs. "You're just as addicting to me as you say I am to you."

And then they're kissing again, and it's fast and slow and gentle and harsh and Roxas is inside his mouth or maybe he's inside Roxas' mouth and their hands are doing something pleasant and he doesn't care that Roxas is practically lying on top of him because Roxas is a skinny little thing and it's not like he hasn't fantasized about this anyway.

That feral side tries to take over but he clamps down on it before he can do anything that might ruin this, but he bites Roxas' lower lip harshly and suddenly Roxas is off the bed, panting, running his forefinger over his lip and sighing when it comes off clean.

"You can't make me bleed," he says weakly, holding his left hand over his chest. "I'll ruin you. I _can't _ruin you."

Axel can only watch the rise and fall of that beautiful chest and ask, "Why?"

"Because you…what if you…I can't guarantee that you'll wake up in the morning."

It's at this point that he realizes something is wrong and something bigger than life is happening and he's not scared even though he probably should be. "What, you think I'd die or something?"

Roxas flies to his side and grabs his hand and says almost desperately, "Don't say that! You're not going to die!"

He doesn't know why but the almost-plea scares him more than anything he's ever heard so he says, "Okay…I believe you."

But he's not sure if he does and he has no reason not to trust Roxas but he's not sure if he does that either.

* * *

He wakes in a bed of rose milk-scented clouds and even though he's alone he feels like he's in heaven. The clouds are blacker than storm clouds, black as night and dotted with nothing. The curtains are open and he knows it's nighttime because the moonlight caresses his face and neck. He realizes he doesn't know what the back of the mansion looks like so he stands and presses his face to the window and frowns in not anger but confusion.

It's Roxas he sees first, but the faceless brunette woman second and Larxene third. Larxene taps a finger nervously on her collarbone and twitches her head sporadically, looking around as if searching for prying eyes like Axel's. But even though he can see her he's pretty sure she can't see him because of her position.

Roxas is kissing the brunette but not on the lips because it's on her forearms and her neck and it's taking a long time and he thinks he sees something strange in the picture but he's not sure because they're shadowed in some sort of alcove.

The brunette arches and opens her mouth wide like his lips are giving her more pleasure than she's ever felt in her entire life, and her sweet brown eyes are hazy like dying embers. She says something but of course he can't hear it but the way her face looks makes him think of a prayer or a plea. Roxas kisses her neck again and sucks in a gentle-harsh sort of way and her whole body quivers like a tree in a hurricane and she collapses from the intensity.

He backs away and looks at his wife, and Axel sees bright lights within cerulean waves like the stars are reflecting in his irises. She hugs him in a very ungentle and awkward way and his shoulders shake with what looks like laughter as he buries his face in her neck.

Larxene says something he can't hear but the way her face looks makes him think of bedtime stories and love and he retreats to the bed again because he feels oddly ashamed. He feels like he shouldn't have seen that bit of intimacy – not the part where Roxas made love to the brunette with just his lips but the part where he laughed and the universe exploded in his eyes.

He tries and tries and when he finally falls asleep, the man inside appears and beats him up and swallows him whole.

In the morning he tries to leave without saying goodbye and he writes a note on a pad by the stairs. He scribbles with a pen that he got called away early, and before he can thank Roxas for letting him stay someone taps him on the shoulder and the pen jerks a thick blue line on the paper.

It's the man from his other dream – not the one who swallowed him whole, but the one who gave him coffee and he thinks maybe he's psychic because there's coffee again. For some reason it feel like the man shouldn't be there but he is and he's holding coffee.

"I didn't expect you to come back," the blond says, and there's something about him Axel doesn't like.

"I wasn't sure I'd come back," he replies honestly. He fidgets with the pen in his hand because he doesn't know what else to do.

"I understand…this place is very alluring, no?"

This isn't how this is supposed to work, something's wrong with the man's voice. He's not speaking correctly and he's still holding out the coffee like an offering.

"Is this for me?"

"It was, but I'm not sure I should-"

And Roxas is there, eyes narrow, staring at the blond holding the coffee cup with poison lacing his gaze. "Vexen."

Axel vaguely recognizes that name but he can't quite remember where he heard it, so he stays silent and watches the strange exchange.

"Roxas," Vexen says neutrally. He looks strong at first glance but Axel can see that he's nervous for some reason or another. He keeps sending a pleading look toward Axel but he doesn't know what he's supposed to do so he stays silent.

"What is in that cup?"

"Coffee."

Axel watches curiously as Roxas takes the mug, sniffs it, swirls it around (this isn't a wine-tasting but it kind of looks like it and the man is starting to pound on his head again and he really needs to get home before his head starts to ache), and raises an eyebrow. He presses the mug into Axel's hands and says, "Drink."

And Axel drinks because Roxas told him to and when it comes down to it, he's powerless to ignore anything that has to do with Roxas.

It tastes like black coffee, perfectly bitter. It's hot and burns his throat but other than that, nothing seems amiss. He drains the cup and shrugs and watches Roxas' face because Roxas is watching Vexen who still looks nervous.

And when they've all been standing there for fifteen minutes, silent and unmoving, Axel's head starts to pound and he says, "I need to get home. My head is screaming at me."

Roxas' eyes narrow and then widen and then Axel is graced with a smile. It's a small smile but it's on Roxas' face so of course it's beautiful. "You shouldn't keep it waiting, then."

Axel lets himself out and feels the green snake-green eyes on him but it's really not as creepy as he thought it was before.

* * *

It's a week later and his fingers are singing but not of the man inside. He's stuck on sonnets of cerulean and epithets to elegance and his head is screaming but at least he's halfway done with the man's request. It hurts and he's tired but he can only see cerulean in his mind and taste Roxas in his mouth.

_I feel a tugging at my soul_

_And long for sense I cannot make_

_I am but half inside a whole_

_Cerulean, my heart's mistake_

Because Kairi was right, he should never have gone to that house, should never have kissed Roxas, tasted Roxas, _memorized _Roxas. It's like memorizing the list of prepositions, because the periodic table turns into _about above across after against along among around _and all he wants to do is find gold.

But maybe he really just wants to find what this is about because he remembers Roxas above him and the small smile across his face and the moon after he woke up and his face against the glass and fingers running along his cheek and being among faceless strangers and he can't wrap his mind around it.

And he could go on and on because Roxas is R-O-X-A-S, so committed in his memory that he wonders how the _fuck _he forgot before, but he doesn't _want _to go on and on because his brain is going on and on and the man inside is shouting at him to stop thinking nonsense.

Roxas is driving him crazy and the strangest thing of all is that he kind of wants it to happen, wants to see what will happen, wants to find out why this is all happening in the first place.

He's out of food again and he's got six dollars left, so he dresses warmly and runs to the market. It's purely by accident, but he spies the face of the brunette woman with sweet brown eyes on a newspaper, and reads about how she was found washed up on a riverbank with slit wrists and a slit throat.

Something bubbles inside him like bile but it's not because he recognizes the feeling. The feeling is fear, because there's not a lot of crime in Twilight Town except for missing persons, but everyone just figures they're runaways because most people think it's boring here. And his eyes are stuck to her face because he remembers how Roxas paid special attention to her wrists and throat. He wonders if Roxas has seen the suicide article and if he feels sick because the tender spots he kissed are the same ones she cut open before throwing herself off Twilight Bridge.

He decides he'll go see Roxas because he thinks he left his phone there anyway, and Kairi is probably worried about him because they haven't talked in a while and he's a little worried about the ill blond who's stolen his heart in a matter of days or weeks or months.

* * *

When Larxene answers the door she's wearing a simple black tank top with strings for shoulder straps and her expression is thunderous. He notices even through the strange bracers on her forearms that she has delicate wrists, and he remembers that he doesn't remember ever seeing her in short sleeves.

She steps aside but not before saying, "You shouldn't be here, asshole."

He doesn't know how to respond to that so he doesn't and instead asks, "Is Roxas in?"

"Of course he is; it's daytime," she replies, as if he should've known that. Her tone is condescending and arrogant and it might irritate him but it's true; he should've known that.

He nods and she points one finger toward the library. Axel realizes that neither of them wears a wedding ring but they're obviously in love and they _are _married so he doesn't really get it. He enters the library after a short walk and stops short because he sees something so beautiful he can hardly breathe.

It's Roxas, who is breathtaking anyway, but he's stretched out on the table with one leg over the other and his torso twisted so he can prop his head up on one hand. He has a glass of red wine in the other and he's studying something by candlelight. When he looks up Axel sees the universe exploding again but he realizes there are tears dripping down Roxas' face. It's only a moment before he is at Roxas' side, behind him, wrapping his arms around him, listening to Roxas' harsh breathing.

It's the newspaper in front of him and Axel suddenly understands.

They don't say anything, just sit there for a while, and Roxas' body gives one violent shudder before his breath evens out and he smiles with nothing but cerulean beauty because his lips don't move.

"Did Larx let you in?"

"Yeah. She told me I shouldn't be here, but she told me where you were."

Roxas laughs, but it sounds kind of hollow. "She really looks out for us. But it's a little too late now, I think."

He wants to ask but his words stick between his lungs and his mouth and make his heart pound quickly. Instead, when he opens his mouth all that comes out is, "Have you heard from Naminé lately?"

"She's in Traverse Town with Kairi, for the product launch. Didn't they call you?"

"I think I left my phone here," he replies, and he knows he should probably feel embarrassed but he's not.

Roxas twines their fingers together and shifts so his head is against Axel's shoulder. It's wonderful in a way he'd never be able to write because enough of his body is pressed against Roxas to make his nerves sing but it's not enough to make him tremble.

"You make me feel like rain," Roxas whispers, and he's not sure what that means but fuck, that's oddly poetic.

He doesn't reply verbally but he puts his free hand over Roxas' hips and lets it rest on his stomach. It feels like Roxas barely eats because it's almost dipped inward and hard like there's nothing there but taut skin like a drum.

Before he can stop himself his tongue is running over Roxas' neck like ice skates on a frozen pond and his lips brush skin like they want to touch but they're afraid. Roxas wriggles like a worm and for a moment Axel thinks he's hurt, but their eyes meet and he knows it's nothing like that.

"You have…" Roxas takes a deep breath and continues, "No idea what you do to me."

"If it's anything similar to what you do to me, then I think I do," he whispers, and he's about to lean over and taste Roxas' lips but the door opens and he sees poison green darken with something like concern.

"I'm going to be gone until tomorrow night," she says, and gives Roxas a glance which has something hidden in it. Axel doesn't understand but it doesn't matter. She continues, "Try not to do anything stupid tonight."

Roxas tenses and says, "I wouldn't."

She sighs and smiles but it's nothing like her regular dangerous one. It's tired and resigned and Axel doesn't like it because it means something's changing and if something's changing it will affect Roxas and it will probably be bad.

"Love you, Rox."

"Love you too, Larx. Stay safe."

"Asshole," she murmurs, but there's a fondness to it Axel doesn't understand. He knows he should feel bad, he knows he should be disgusted because he's lying with her husband in the library, in a very intimate way, and Roxas just told her he loves her even though his eyes are hazy with want.

But no matter what, he can't bring himself to care all that much and he thinks something's happening to him, something bad.

Roxas sits up and watches as Larxene doesn't shut the door. He drains the rest of his glass – it's that same strange goblet from before – and stands shakily. "I'm going to go rinse this out. You can go upstairs if you want."

And by that he's pretty sure Roxas means the bedroom and he's a little scared of what that means but he's using most of his energy to make his lungs work. Larxene isn't even out of the house yet and Roxas is making suggestions he probably shouldn't be making in the first place but it's beyond Axel to worry at this point. He's only scared that Roxas will get hurt somehow because he's ill and fragile and kind of like a doll.

On the way up he passes that same fuckin' weird painting and he has to avert his eyes because it still feels like it's haunting him.

When he enters the bedroom Larxene is sitting on the bed and glaring lightning at him, and he makes to leave but she beckons to him with one finger and he wants to hear what she has to say about all of this.

"What do you think about Roxas?"

It's a question he didn't expect but he knows how to answer. "He's the most amazing person I've ever met."

She laughs and it's sharp and hollow and he feels like he should want to flinch but he doesn't. "I know. He killed my fiancée and I still love him."

He thinks his eyes go wide but it's hard to say because he can only think about what she said. "What do you mean, he…killed someone?"

"Do you know the meaning of 'kill,' numbskull?"

"Obviously. I wouldn't be _surprised _if I didn't know what it meant."

She pauses, and then changes the subject entirely, and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing but he thinks it's probably bad because she says, "I need to know if you love him. Tell me if you love him."

He sits and waits for the answer to come to him but it doesn't because he's known him for only a little while but he's also known him forever and he really just doesn't know about anything any more.

"Please…I _need _to know."

It's a weird begging tone he doesn't like at all because it looks wrong, wrong, wrong in her voice and on her face and written in her every move like sad music. So he says, "I don't know but I…think I might, or I might be able to."

She raises a hand like she's going to slap him but she puts it down and says, "That's not an answer. I _need to know if you love Roxie."_

He does and he doesn't because he loves everything about Roxas but he doesn't know everything about Roxas but he thinks the answer is, "Yes. I do."

Her face falls but only for a moment because then her poison green eyes are shocking his very core and she says, "You need to get out of here."

He frowns in one part confusion and ninety-nine parts frustration. "What? Why?"

"Because you love Roxas. If you truly love him, you'll leave and never come back."

"What the…what the hell? _You _love him and he loves you, and _you're _not leaving. I'm not trying to butt in or ruin everything, you know. I don't know what you're thinking here, but you don't have to worry because I'm not trying to take him away from you."

"Honey, I know you're not. And that just makes him want you even more."

Axel has no idea what she's talking about and he thinks his confusion shows on his face because she says with a strange not-sad smile, "Oh, yes. He loves me, but he loves you more. We're married, but we both know we're not meant to stay together forever; we love each other deeply, but I can't give him what he needs, Red."

"And I can? I don't really…get this." He doesn't and it's frustrating because there are secrets everyone's keeping and they're the secrets they keep from _him._

"What a poor little sheltered boy. Yes, you can. You _can, _and that's why you have to get out of here. If he gets to you, you will absolutely _destroy _him. I refuse to see the man I love break apart completely because of something as stupid as _love."_

"You're not making any sense!"

"I'm sure you know this by now, but he's sick. Oh, yes, he's _very _sick. And he has to be _so, _so careful…the disease travels through blood, you know. If somehow his blood gets into your bloodstream…you'll get sick. He loves you; he'll never forgive himself if you end up dead."

He doesn't like her tone of voice or her thunderous eyes or the condescending look on her face so he raises his chin and repeats, "He loves _you."_

"I'm special; I'm immune to the disease. Call it a lucky break, if you will. We can share blood all we want and it will never hurt me. But it will hurt you and it will hurt him."

"Well how do you know? Maybe I'm the same-"

She shakes her head and clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "No, you're not. You're O-positive, right?"

"Well, yeah, but how did you-"

"The only lucky ones are AB-negative. And even then, it's a rare immunity; Roxas is AB-negative, and he still has the disease."

He hates her he hates her he hates her and he doesn't know why she's doing this or how she knows his blood type or why she's so concerned about how he feels about _her husband _and how they feel about each other and he's so confused and he _hates her. _"Why are you concerned about _me? _If he loves you, he'll stay with-"

"I'm not _jealous. _That's a _laugh and a half. _If he gets his hands on you, you'll completely destroy each other."

He's irritated and confused and he yells at her, "Stop being cryptic and _tell me what's going on!"_

And then there's a knock on the door and Roxas steps inside the bedroom and sighs and Axel thinks he probably knows what's going on because he says, "I'll take it from here, Larx. Thanks for trying to protect me, but…I don't need it."

Larxene gazes at Roxas and gazes at Axel and gazes at the floor, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Finally, she nods curtly at her husband and stands, and she doesn't even look at him before she passes through the door. After her footsteps fade away Roxas shuts the door and leans on it. His shoulders shake and it looks like laughing but Axel can see tears pooling in his eyes.

When Roxas sits beside him and takes his hand he can't repress a shiver of something like pleasure but he knows he has to say, "What the _hell _is going on?"

The blond sighs softly and replies, "Do you love me?"

And it's bizarre and frustrating but all he can think is "Yes," and he says it too.

"Then we have some things to talk about."

Axel's stomach drops to his pelvis but it's not in a good way; it's the kind of drop that happened when he found out his parents had died. "…Okay."

Roxas runs his fingers along the creases in Axel's palm as he says, "My disease…we call it blood sickness. Most people have another name for it."

Axel can barely concentrate when Roxas starts tracing the veins in his wrist, but he can at least stutter out, "W-hat i-s it?"

"Vampirism."

And he laughs because it's funny and because he was afraid it was something bad, but it was just a bad joke. But then he realizes Roxas isn't laughing and he tastes something bad on his tongue.

"You're serious?"

Roxas nods and looks away, like he's ashamed. "Yeah."

He frowns in confusion and loss of his hold on reality. "But vampires are just in _stories. _They're just _legends. _I mean…you're not immortal, and you obviously bleed…and I always seem to overpower you…"

"We're not vampires. Not really. We're not immortal; we aren't the living dead. We're human beings, just like you and Larx and everyone else. I'm…I guess you could call it _allergic _to sunlight, and heat. Bright lights hurt my eyes. Most importantly, though…I feel weak without someone else's blood to sustain me."

"And…you can't…use _me?"_

"You'd catch the disease if we made even one mistake…and you'd probably die. Axel, I love you more than anything else, and…it's selfish of me to ask you to stay, but I want you to because I want you to love me and I want to wake up beside you and I want to know what the people inside your head say. This wasn't supposed to happen but it did because I see something in you I've never seen in anyone else. It would hurt more than anything because I love you but I won't…I won't stop you from getting up and walking out that door."

"Roxas…" He doesn't know how to respond to that confession, doesn't know what to say because he doesn't know what will happen after this. But… "I'm not going _anywhere."_

Roxas sighs and in that sigh Axel hears that he's making a bad decision but it's not really a decision. He can't walk away because all he'll ever be able to think about until the day he dies are sonnets of cerulean and epithets to elegance.

He sits still as fingers trace the lines in his palm and the veins in his wrists and draw circles around his elbow. He jumps when Roxas finds a particularly sensitive spot but he doesn't make any noise until he asks, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"It wasn't important until you said you loved me."

It doesn't make sense, it doesn't, it doesn't make _sense. _"But you said you love _me. _I don't understand."

"You have made me…" And here, Roxas presses his lips to his palm, and it's erotic in a very calm way which isn't erotic at all. "The happiest…" And it's one, two, three, four, five, all of his fingers and the tip of his thumb. "…Man alive. I've found you, even after all this time. And I can live on that until I die, but I can't bring myself to make you unhappy."

He closes his eyes in half pleasure and half confusion until the whole thing hits him. "…Found me?"

"Yes. But I never expected it to be like this…where I can barely touch you for fear of breaking you, where I can remember but you can't. I suppose it's some form of cosmic punishment."

"What…?"

He doesn't think he likes where this is going, not one bit, not one little bit. But he wants to know because if he's wrong that's great and if he's right it's something he needs to know anyway.

Roxas sighs and Axel wishes he could see but he can't because his body refuses to turn. And then the voice hits his ears with words he isn't sure he likes. "There was a time," he says, and his tone is almost tired and broken but his voice is smooth and beautiful as ever. "When I was your everything; and I couldn't remember you. And when I did, I walked away from you, despite knowing that somewhere, somehow, I could have loved you. Soon after, you couldn't even touch me, because I wasn't myself. Now it's my turn…and _you _don't remember, and _I _can't touch you."

It doesn't make sense, it doesn't, it doesn't make _sense, _but it does even though it still doesn't. "I don't get it." Because he doesn't.

"Tell me…when Ren talked to you about her reasons for leaving Alex, did she tell you why she ran? Did she tell you that Alex was too good to be true, that she was running toward something she didn't think would destroy her completely? Did she tell you…" Roxas kisses his palm again and it's fire, fire, fire in his veins.

"…Did she tell you she thought herself completely inadequate, and she wanted to find her heart because Alex made her feel things she shouldn't feel at all?"

And Axel gapes because yes, she did say that and yes, he understands and maybe he understands more than he thought because he understands why he's fallen in love so fast and it's because he's only physically known Roxas for a few months and mentally known Roxas for a few weeks or days but his heart has known Roxas for years.

But none of this reaches his mind because it's all in his heart and he won't be able to think properly until Roxas stops touching him and shooting fire, fire, fire through his veins.

"Yes."

"And that would be my part…Ren, the runaway lover who refuses to look back for fear of running the wrong way."

Roxas does something with his lips then, something on his forearm and it feels like bread dough and he thinks he's felt it before. Axel gasps sharply because it's all pleasure and he can't tell if he wants to die or not, if he wants to laugh or cry, and he wants to return the pleasure but he can't because his body refuses to turn.

"I love you," Roxas breathes, coming into view and straddling Axel's waist and pressing measured kisses along his collarbones. "I always have."

Something about the tone and the way Roxas moves his hips makes a shudder run through him and he collapses, but he doesn't because Roxas catches him before his shoulders hit the bed. And he can't understand because isn't Roxas supposed to be fragile, like a doll, like a tragic beauty?

"I thought…" And Roxas moves again, and another shudder runs through, but he continues, "I thought you were…" And again and again and he wants to shut up because he can't. "You always seemed so fragile and weak…"

Roxas laughs a delicate, hollow laugh and says, against the base of Axel's throat, "I've never been held…I've always done the holding."

And then his hips are moving again and Axel's head is gently lowered and there are lips and fingers everywhere, and whatever stopped him from moving before lets go because he's moving too. He wants to try and figure out that strange statement but he can't because his brain turns hazy and it's not sex, but it's cerulean dreams and he loves it like he loves Roxas but he loves Roxas a little bit more.

One of his last coherent thoughts is that Roxas is de-cep-tive-ly_ scrawny, _de-cep-tive all the time, but it still seems _right._

* * *

He's dazed but not, he's sitting in front of his computer, he's listening to the man inside him and after three chapters he can only think sonnets of cerulean and epithets to elegance.

_Deceptively weak, his embrace_

_A dance of truth and lies afoot_

_The smile across his pretty face:_

_Not pure as snow, but dark as soot_

But he loves him, loves him, _loves him _and it's driving him insane because the man inside is screaming and his heart is pounding a different rhythm than the one in his brain and Kairi keeps leaving messages but he can't bring himself to answer his phone. She pounds on the door but he can't bring himself to assure her that he's all right.

Because he isn't.

He isn't, he isn't, he _really isn't._

Kairi is worried which means Naminé is worried and when it crosses his mind that they might contact Roxas, he decides he needs to reassure them even though he can't reassure himself. He was never assured in the first place but he doesn't want them to find out about his stolen heart because he knows they were trying to protect him.

So he picks up his phone and unplugs it and phones Kairi.

"_Axel, what the hell is _wrong _with you?"_

And he knows Kairi was very worried because she just _doesn't curse _and she doesn't get angry unless she's scared or someone she loves is in trouble. So he lies. He lies to her and to himself when he says, "I was just caught up in something. You know how I get."

This conversation seems familiar but it doesn't because the circumstances are _so different._

"_I know…I just…I heard that you keep showing up at the old mansion and I was worried. Then I couldn't get hold of you and _no one _had seen you and I was afraid you were…"_

His breath catches because he realizes what everyone was afraid of, now. He can't tell whether he wants to laugh or scream so he settles for saying in an almost joking tone, "What, did you think I was dead or something?"

When she screams into the phone, _"Yes, that's exactly what I thought," _he realizes maybe he should have taken her seriously, taken Naminé seriously, taken Larxene seriously, taken _Roxas _seriously. But it all seems so farfetched, even now, because really, vampires don't exist. And even if they do, surely they can't bleed.

But this call is supposed to reassure her so he says, "Well, don't worry. I'm alive and well, and I haven't gotten into any trouble."

It's true and it's not true and his head is pounding and his heart is crying and so is Kairi. _"Just tell me if…if something ever bothers you, okay? Tell me if you need help, or if you need to talk to someone, or…anything. I'm here for you, all right?"_

"Of course, Kai. I'm here for you too."

He says it with a smile because it will show in his voice, but his smile is forced and he thinks maybe his voice is too because Kairi goes quiet. After a moment, she says, _"I love you, okay? Stay safe."_

And she hangs up before he can reply, but he's glad because he laughs because that's almost the exact same thing Roxas said to Larxene before she left.

He wants to go back to that house but he doesn't but he really, _really _does so he showers and dresses and notices he's gotten even skinnier. He brushes his teeth and he's very careful to not get cut by his razor because he doesn't want to cause Roxas any pain.

And then he laughs because Roxas could probably kill him but that's not even what he's _worried _about. It's stupid and it would be sweet if it were just a story but it's real life and he's terrified but not of Roxas. No, not Roxas, _never _Roxas.

* * *

He vaguely remembers something that tastes like blue but he can't remember where he got it or why he can't remember very well. He remembers a few pills and smoke in his lungs and he's fly-ing above the world.

He sees the Boy and the Boy raises his glass and Axel _knows-knows-knows _there's something he's supposed to know but it's break-ing out of his mind. Every. Single. Time. He tries to recall it.

The Boy has bedroom eyes and sllliiinks toward him like a fucking ballerina. Blondie-blonde-blond reaches him but frowns because he's _ir-ri-ta-ted. _Axel doesn't know why the Boy is that way but he thinks the frown on his face is se-duc-tive. He leans over to steal his lips but he doesn't get far because there's a hand in his way.

"Why are you high again, Axel?"

He doesn't think he's high because he's not on drugs because he's not a druggie because he's never _been _on drugs, except maybe those pills were drugs and maybe that smoke was but probably not because he can only remember ce-ru-le-an.

"M'not."

"You _are. _Did you drink anything when you got here?"

"Ce-ru-le-an," he says, not because he thinks that's what the drink is called but because it's the color of the Boy's eyes. "Tastes like blue."

It's the funniest thing he's ever said in his entire life because he's _brilliant. _He feels in-vin-ci-ble and he wants to show the Boy but the Boy is angry and probably with him but he doesn't know why. And then he remembers something else.

"Coffee is bitter. Good. It's – it's not bad, coffee is good."

He's trying to tell the Boy that he drank coffee but he keeps getting sidetracked and his mouth is rebelling or maybe his brain is and his mouth is saying the right thing after all. He says, "There was a guy."

He forgets the end of that, but he has something better to say. "You're pretty, the Boy, the pretty one. The pretty Boy, pretty, pretty, pretty."

Blondie-blonde-blond grits his teeth and mutters something but Axel's ears aren't working too well or maybe they _are _working too well and that's the problem because the Boy's words just blend in with the loud sounds eve-ry-where, eve-ry-where, _everywhereeverywhereeverewhere. _

"What did the man look like?"

"You're the Boy, the pretty one," he says again, and he pulls on the Boy's hair because it's yellow like lemon juice, not like banana peels but it's kind of the same but kind of different and it's "Blondie-blonde-blond, and bananas too."

He's brilliant and he smirks because he's in-vin-ci-ble.

The Boy who isn't as pa-the-tic as he seems (de-cep-tive-ly _scrawny, _but he doesn't know where that came from and he doesn't care because the Boy's skin is soft-soft-soft) pulls him up and pulls him up the stairs and pulls him up when he falls, trembling, because the fuckin' weird painting screams silently at him and haunts him and tries to swallow him _who-ole._

He pulls him into the bedroom and pushes him down and leans over and whispers, "I'm sorry about this; really, I am."

And Axel wants to know what the _fuck _is going on but there's something at his mouth and _fuck, _but that smells _awful._

And then there's black.

* * *

There are voices but he doesn't know if they're real because he can't open his eyes and his stomach churns but he can't open his eyes and he can't move.

"_I'm not sticking around, Roxie."_

"_I know. I don't expect it of you. We both knew this would happen…you're free, Firefly. Go live your own life. Please be happy."_

"_I know. I knew it would happen the minute he entered this house. I didn't want it to happen, but it was kind of inevitable. So now you've found him and everything. Congratu-fucking-lations."_

"_Larx, you know I'm-"_

"_I'm not mad at you for Marluxia. He knew what he was getting into. I'm mad at you for Axel. I don't give two shits about him, but I care about you. I shouldn't. I should be furious. But I'm tired of caring about stupid shit and you're the only thing I have left."_

"_I…you don't have to leave."_

"_Do you really want me to stay?"_

"_Of course…but no…Larx, I have no idea what I want. I have no idea what to do. I thought this would be clean, I thought…I thought this would be closure. He wasn't supposed to forget and I wasn't supposed to stay in love and he wasn't supposed to love me back."_

"_Roxie…"_

"_I've never had so little control in this life. I want to scream, and I want you to stay, but it's selfish of me to ask you to stay."_

"_Even if you asked, I wouldn't stay. Just…promise me something."_

"_Anything."_

"_Don't kill him. Don't break him. I really think I hate him, but you love him and I really don't want to see you fall apart or wonder if you're still okay."_

"_Of course…I couldn't kill him…I…"_

"_I love you, Roxie."_

"_I love you too, Larx. So much. I wish it hadn't ended up like this."_

"_I'm gonna stay with your brother for a couple of weeks, and then I'll probably head over to Destiny Islands. I'll probably keep in touch, but if you don't hear from me…"_

"_I understand."_

He can't move and he can't open his eyes but he knows he's going to retch so he puts all of his effort into turning over so he doesn't drown in his own vomit. Just as everything comes out he feels a hand holding his shoulder up and nothing gets on his lap because there's some sort of container in front of him, catching the sick and the blood laced within it.

He tries to say thank you but even to his ears it only sounds like a moan. He hears a sigh and someone whispers in his ear, "I'm sorry. It was the only way."

He doesn't know what the Voice needed a way to do, but the hand is now threading through his hair and he feels something like bread dough on his forehead and then there's another hand resting on his chest.

"The heart is such a weakness," the Voice says, but it doesn't sound upset because it sounds happy-sad in a very melancholy way, and that doesn't make sense but it does. "Look where it's brought us, hmm?"

His eyes still aren't open and he feels himself slipping back into black and he hears someone humming quietly in his ear. It's beautiful and haunting and then there's black again so it isn't anything.

* * *

It's five weeks later and he sees Roxas at least three times a week but the man inside isn't banging on the front of his skull because words flow out of him like never before. He can no longer hear sonnets of cerulean and epithets of elegance…the last two lines won't come and he's titled the whole thing 'Cerulean Dreams' but he can't think of how to end it.

But it doesn't matter because he's working with the man inside and suddenly it's finished and he wonders how that happened, because he didn't even write it. He thinks the man inside took control and wrote it for him – it's happened before, but this one is actually good. This is something he's not ashamed to admit he wrote.

This might be the day he can look toward a future with more food and less extra room at the waistband of his pants. He's ashamed of his almost-penniless existence because it means the last thing he wrote was shit, and he's too embarrassed to ask for help because that will all come out. But maybe it won't because if They like this like he likes it then maybe he can pretend there was never anything wrong.

He powers down his computer and looks out his window and sees the full moon peeking through a thick layer of clouds. He decides it's a great time to see Roxas, because they can celebrate and because he knows Roxas is lonely in that big mansion without Larxene to keep him company.

He gets ready and his stomach grumbles but he's used to ignoring stuff like that so it's not a big deal. It's not a big deal until the headaches come and his head is clearer than it has been in months. He knows he still has a lot of revision to do before he can even _think _of sending his book in, but finishing the damn thing is ninety percent of the battle so he knows he deserves the break he's taking. He can't wait to see Roxas, to tell him the news, to clink glasses and pretend they're drinking the same thing.

When he arrives he unlocks the door himself because Roxas gave him a key, and the foyer is dark but it usually is so that's no surprise. He peeks into the kitchen but Roxas isn't there, so he looks in the library and he's not _there, _either. So he looks in the bedroom and avoids the haunting stare of the Munch painting and Roxas isn't there. So he explores the top floor, something he never bothered to do before. There are many different paintings in the hallway and they're all very strange, but nothing like "The Scream" because they don't haunt him.

He comes to a door on the opposite side and tentatively opens it, and he has to squint his eyes because it's so, _so _white. Roxas is lying on the white table in the middle with an arm over his eyes, and his chest is slow like he can't breathe. Axel panics and rushes to his side, picks him up, carries him to the bedroom because the bedroom is dark and the bed is soft.

Roxas is unresponsive and heavy because of that, but Axel doesn't drop him or even stop walking because he's afraid of what will happen if he does. When Roxas is lying on the bed and the door is shut, Axel lies down next to him and tries to ignore the tingling in his skin so he can hold the blond close without any sexuality attached. He's scared of losing Roxas but mostly he's scared of losing himself because if he's gone Roxas will be gone too.

After minutes, days, hours, weeks, seconds like that, Roxas opens his eyes and they're hazy with something like pain but it's beautiful and they're still the same color. He gasps when he sees Axel looking but he doesn't look away and Axel is grateful.

"You shouldn't be here," he rasps, but not because his throat is sore. Axel wonders how long Roxas was lying like that, because he hasn't been here in three days.

"I'm here anyway," he whispers, and it's more like a promise than a response.

"But I want you, I want all of you, and I can't have you."

"Yes you can. I'm yours till the day we die." And it's true and he thinks he should be more disturbed about that. But it's true so he's not disturbed at all.

"But…I want you…your body…your scent…your blood…I want…" He's turning and he's turned and he opens his mouth to speak but Axel cuts off his words with his lips and tongue. Roxas closes his eyes but Axel doesn't want him to close them.

So he draws back long enough to say, "And I want your eyes."

His voice seems to do something to Roxas because he's suddenly pushed away and Roxas is directing a wild, glazed look at him. "Don't you _get _it?"

"I get that something's wrong. I get that you need something, and I want to give it to you."

Roxas rubs his eyes and moans, "You don't know what you're offering. Please don't. _Please."_

Axel is starting to get irritated because Roxas doesn't seem to understand that Axel would do _anything _for him, anything to _help _him. All he wants is for Roxas to look at him and speak to him and trace the veins in his wrist with his fingertips. So he says, "Tell me what I'm offering then, because it looks to me like I'm offering to _help _you."

"I told you I want _you, _I want your _blood…_I can't…I _can't…"_

And he thinks he understands because there's something vulnerable running through the silk of his voice and his hands are shaking pathetically. He has dark circles under his eyes even though he's been sleeping for only god knows how long.

So he says, "You can have it."

He's favored with the most frightening glare he's ever seen and Roxas hisses, "No. _Don't _say that."

"Well where do you usually get it," he asks, not quite intimidated but definitely scared.

"Larxene. But she's gone now. Sometimes I can live off the energy at parties but that only lasts for so long. There have been a couple of times…" And he trails off, looking to the side like he's ashamed of something.

He's starting to piece everything together and he's not sure he likes the picture in front of him, but he likes _(loveslovesloves) _Roxas so he ignores the fear bubbling in his stomach. "Why were you okay with Larxene but not with me? Do you not _trust _me or something?"

"No, _no! _That's not _it. _I just…she's immune to it so we didn't have to worry about mistakes and you…I couldn't live with myself if you got sick. I want to grow old together, to sit together on the roof and soak up the moonlight together, to tease you when your hair turns gray and to hear you tease me when I start to get wrinkles. I've lived with this my whole life but it's hard for others to…I mean, Sora…"

Axel's eyes go wide because he thinks Sora might have died because he was helping Roxas survive. They made a mistake and Sora died because his parents didn't want another 'vampire' in the family. It makes him angry and sad and he wants to scream or cry or maybe just hold onto Roxas for dear life but he doesn't do any of those things. Instead, he asks, "What can I do to help?"

"Nothing…just…just hold me."

So he does. They lie down, bodies pressed together, and Axel's entire body sings but he ignores the music because he needs to be Roxas' strength and not his downfall.

* * *

Roxas looks a bit better when they wake and Axel makes them breakfast, because he's a good cook when there's actually food in the kitchen. Roxas eats quickly, like his stomach is empty and Axel is suddenly concerned. "How long were you in that white room?"

"I don't know," Roxas says between bites. "I lied down shortly after you left, but I can't remember anything after that."

It's obvious he hasn't eaten anything in at least three days, and Axel can't decide whether he's upset or just relieved that Roxas isn't going to die of starvation. They spend the rest of the morning in the library, lying on the table in the candlelight and discussing the meaning of "Utopia," by Sir Thomas More.

In the afternoon, Axel cooks steak and makes it especially rare for Roxas, because he thinks maybe that will help. Roxas eyes the meat and eyes Axel and smiles, and it's beautiful because it's a _real _smile and he thinks maybe it _will _help.

"I love you," Roxas says out of nowhere, and it warms Axel's chest to the point of burning.

"I love you too."

"I think you should move in here."

He doesn't know what to think but he knows what to say. "I'd love to."

* * *

He notices Roxas never drinks from his ugly goblet any more, and asks him why.

"It's just a cup," he replies, but he doesn't meet Axel's eyes and he can tell it's a lie.

"I'm not _stupid. _I want to grow old with you, too. I love you. And if you're putting yourself in danger or something, that's really stupid because you _know _I'd do anything to help you."

There are no parties either and he thinks that's probably a bad thing.

"I want to be good for you. I don't want to be the kind of person who steals from others, even if it means…"

"I don't care whether you steal or not, Roxas, but I wish you'd just let _me _help you. I want you alive more than I want you to be a good person. Call me selfish, but _you're _the one I care about. How long has it been?"

"About a month."

And Axel feels angry and frustrated and thinks privately that if Roxas won't take care of himself, then Axel will do it for him. Because Roxas is his everything. Roxas holds his heart and all he has to do is spasm once and it's ruined forever. All he has to do is close his hand and Axel doesn't _have _a heart any more.

"You're getting weaker."

"I know."

"Are you going to do anything about it?"

Roxas doesn't answer and Axel decides that he really _doesn't _care about anyone but Roxas.

Not even himself.

* * *

He's disgusted with himself but it's been seven weeks since Larxene left and Roxas is lying nearly comatose in the bedroom. He's carrying bottles back to the mansion and his hands are shaking and he wants to throw up, but he doesn't care. He only cares about Roxas.

They're going to find another body washed up on the shore, and it really does bother him but probably not as much as it should.

* * *

Roxas opens his eyes three days later, gasping for air. Axel is there, sitting quietly on a chair, and he can't help but smile even though he spent two of those days either forcing down waves of nausea or spitting them out. Axel moves closer and catches Roxas' hand and the first words out of the blond are, "I love you."

"I love you too, Roxas."

He means it and even though it's so much easier to ignore the singing of his body, he still has to restrain himself from pressing kisses to every inch of Roxas' pale skin because that's not what he needs right now. What he needs right now is quiet and someone to sit by him without hurting him.

He doesn't know how he knows this and maybe he's wrong, but if he is Roxas will probably tell him because Roxas is capable of speaking up for himself.

"I taste blood," Roxas says softly, suddenly.

"I thought I was going to lose you," Axel replies, and it's not really an explanation but he knows Roxas can fill in the blanks. He doesn't know why he's suddenly ashamed of his actions when he wasn't before; he wasn't ashamed when he killed the man, wasn't ashamed when he made sure to get as much as he could in the bottles, wasn't ashamed when he pushed him into the river. But he's ashamed now that Roxas knows, and for a moment he wishes he never said anything but that's stupid because Roxas would find out anyway.

There are several things running through Roxas' cerulean gaze, but all he says is, "Thank you."

And Axel doesn't say anything but they both know he would've done it no matter what.

* * *

Killing people is probably an acquired taste, he thinks, because the second time it isn't as bad. The second time he only throws up a couple of times and he doesn't feel the urge to wash his hands every five seconds. He brings it to Roxas like breakfast in bed, and he even makes some toast to go with it. Roxas is getting stronger every day but there's only so much blood in one person so he had to get more.

He wonders why Roxas deprived himself when he knew this was going to happen, because _he _was the one who said he wanted to grow old together. He wonders how Roxas survived nearly two months when Sora only survived a couple of days, and he wants to chalk it up to their blood so he does because it's logical.

He sits on the bed next to Roxas and watches him sip from the straw, and he wonders, "What does that even taste like?"

"Right now it tastes like crap because it's cold," he says, and it's not a joke so Axel makes a note to find some way to heat it without making it completely disgusting or something. "But usually it tastes like iron and sea-salt ice cream. Just the right amount of salt, just the right amount of sweet, and bitter because of the metallic taste. I think it's an acquired taste though because I think I remember a time when I hated it."

"Can I try it?" He doesn't know why he said that and he doesn't even know where it came from, but he supposes it's natural like it's natural for kids to ask their parents if they can try the alcohol in their glasses.

Roxas looks at him oddly, like he's a crazy person, but it's probably established by now that he really, _really _is. He hands the glass over wordlessly and watches to see what Axel will do.

He thinks it will be disgusting, and it is, just a little. It's a little thick, like whole milk instead of wine, but he can taste the underlying sweetness and something heady and electric. He passes it back and says, truthfully, "It's not bad. Not something I'd want to drink every day…so I guess I kind of feel sorry for your taste buds. But at least it doesn't taste like cough syrup. That stuff makes me throw up."

Roxas sits in silence and when Axel looks his face is slack like he doesn't know how to handle Axel's words. But then he shrugs and says, "You always _were _an odd duck." And then he sips through the straw again.

When Roxas puts the glass aside, Axel does what he's wanted to do for weeks and merges their lips. It's heady and metallic and sweet, just like blood, but he smells Roxas and tastes Roxas and it's dizzying.

"I love you," he says when they separate, and scrapes his teeth oh-so-lightly along Roxas' collarbones.

The body beneath him shudders and he loves it. Roxas murmurs, "I love you too," and he loves it. He can hear the frantic beating of Roxas' chest and he loves it. He pulls away to look into Roxas' eyes as their lips meet again, and he loves it loves it _loves it._

* * *

Roxas is completely well again, and they're lying on the table in the library and discussing vampire novels by candlelight. Axel has always found teen vampire romances to be a waste of time but he's always loved "Dracula," and Roxas reads anything he can get his hands on because he thinks they're hilarious.

Axel can see why.

Roxas confesses that he left "Twilight" on Axel's coffee table, because he thought it was funny. At first Axel doesn't know why but then, "It's probably one of the most unrealistic vampire portrayals ever written. I almost feel sorry for the poor woman who wrote it, because people who know the truth probably laugh in her face, even if she doesn't know why. The only thing she got right is that we need blood to survive and some people-" he looks at Axel sideways, but looks away quickly as if he didn't mean to do it. "-Are more enticing than others. I thought it was funny because I could imagine you, finding it, and thinking to yourself, _'What is this shit?' _I was hoping you…would never find out."

"Kairi and Naminé told me Selphie left it there, and they came to get it but they didn't actually take it," Axel informs.

Roxas inhales sharply and purses his lips, but after a moment he releases his breath and it's like his strength leaves him because he collapses. "Did they mention the book by _name?"_

"Yeah."

"Then they were expecting this. And they wanted to keep you away from me. They know my sense of humor, and they _know _Larxene, who suggested it in the first place. Do they…know about you and me?"

He realizes he hasn't bothered to check his phone or even tell Kairi he's not living at home any more, and he swallows shakily because she must think he's dead or something. He doesn't like making her feel bad. "No."

"Does she even know you're still alive?"

He flinches because Roxas' words mirror his thoughts and he doesn't want to hear them aloud. "No."

"You should call her. You don't have to tell her about us, if you don't want her to know…but she's a good girl. She's probably worried sick about you."

He promises himself he will call as soon as they leave the library, because he doesn't want to get up just yet.

* * *

"_Axel, you…_bastard! _I was worried sick…I haven't heard from you in weeks…the house is empty…I really was sure you were dead this time!"_

"Kai, I'm sorry, I-"

"_Is that all you know how to say? I love you, Axel, but I don't know what to do with you any more! I know you've been going to that house, I know you've been seeing Roxas, even though we told you it was dangerous. Demyx told Naminé that Larxene left…and then I heard you went in one day and never came back out! So yeah, Axel, we thought you were dead…and I'm sure by now you know _why!"

"Okay, yeah, you're _right. _And there's nothing I can really do about that, because even though you and Naminé 'warned' me, I'm not in any danger. Okay? I…" He swallows a sudden lump in his throat, because it's now or never and he hopes it never has to _come_ to never.

"I love him. And I want to be with him. Forever."

Kairi is quiet on the other end of the line and when she speaks, her voice is soft and shaky. _"So you're really going to chance breaking both of you?"_

He takes a deep breath and replies, "We're _both _going to chance it, because I can't let go and neither can he. We know what we're getting into, and it's not that bad, Kai. Maybe it's a little nerve-wracking sometimes, but only because _he _almost died and I had to sit there and watch him come slowly back to life. I don't want that to happen again. If I'm here, it won't."

There's a sharp exhale, and then Kairi says, _"I love both of you. And I want you to come to my wedding, okay? That's why I initially started calling."_

He grins because it's something great. "When is it? Who proposed? Kairi, I'm…I'm really happy for you. Really."

"_I know. It was Naminé who asked me, but it's funny – I was going to ask her the same night. She just asked first. It's in three days; you nearly missed it. We're getting married in the pavilion by the river; the guests are invited to show up as early as ten o'clock, but we're waiting for midnight. We thought it would be nice to have our wedding at a time when Roxas can come."_

He smiles because that really was thoughtful, and because he's never been to a wedding before, and because his sister is getting married, and because he's already happy. "I'll tell Roxas, but I'm sure we'll be able to come. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"_You'd better."_

He cancels the call and can't keep the smile off his face and he goes to find Roxas because it's wonderful.

Roxas is in the bedroom drinking his nightly glass, and Axel is glad he only needs a little bit every day now because that means he's better. He sits down on the edge of the bed and takes Roxas' hand and says, "Kairi and Naminé are getting married three days from now at midnight. They want us to come."

"Of course we'll go," Roxas says, and Axel's smile only grows.

* * *

It's a full moon and the stars are beautiful and Roxas is beautiful. He wants to write sonnets of cerulean and epithets to elegance, but the only thing in his head is _I do. _Kairi says it and Naminé says it and he looks at Roxas and says it, but only in his head.

There's a spring breeze and it's a little chilly but Axel's pants fit now so it's okay.

Music plays and there's cake but the sweetest thing is Roxas in the moonlight, and the sweetest sound is Roxas' voice by his ear saying, "I love you."

Kairi and Naminé disappear eventually, and since Axel and Roxas have already congratulated them and hugged them and told them how amazing they both look (Kairi in pink, Naminé in white, the colors they wore as children when they first met), they decide to go home. They walk slowly, swinging their joined hands and Axel thinks it's probably the best feeling he's ever had.

* * *

He knows that somewhere along the line he spent quite a bit of time on drugs and it's never occurred to him, but he didn't go through much when he stopped. They're in the kitchen and he's sprawled on a chair, and Roxas is on the counter drinking from his glass.

"Why didn't I go through withdrawals?"

Roxas frowns, and then shrugs. "I think you did. I don't know how it works, because I've never done drugs. Maybe you just didn't do it enough to become completely addicted; but what do I know? Vexen was sneaky and had a vendetta against you."

"What? _Why?"_

"Because you killed him. But don't worry; he won't give you any more trouble, even _if _we decide to throw another party."

He eyes Roxas critically. "Why do you say that?"

"Because he's dead. Been dead for…about six hours now."

"What happened?"

Instead of answering, Roxas drains his glass and licks his lips. "Tastes a little sweeter today."

He knows he should be horrified but he isn't and that should be horrifying but it isn't. He thinks it's probably because he's a murderer, and because Roxas' cerulean haze has trapped him again. Roxas slides off the counter and Axel springs up from his chair and even though they hit each other hard, there's no pain.

* * *

"Remember when…uh…when you brought me blood that first time?"

Of course he does. "I'll never forget _that. _You almost _died, _you idiot."

Roxas kneads his forehead with his knuckles and it's cute in some way he can't really understand. "I know. I…that was…I thought I was really going to die."

Axel inhales sharply and rolls onto his side, propping his head on his hand and frowning sternly at the blond beside him. His eyes are used to darkness by now, and he can see perfectly by the light of the moon drizzling through the curtains. "Why would you do that?"

"I told you, I-"

And then Roxas sighs, and it's sad and it's sweet and it's tired. "I didn't want to be with you."

Axel scowls and doesn't know whether to be offended or not. "Why? Why did you tell me you did, then?"

"Don't misunderstand me…I _want _to be with you. I love you. And I loved you back then. I've loved you for a very long time. But you were so…perfect, and I…I really thought I was gonna snap because you kept…you kept smiling at me and reacting when I touched you. I told you I couldn't bear it if you got sick. I don't want to see you in any pain…to be completely truthful, it was completely selfish on my part, but that's why I let you initiate everything and that's why I have to force myself to be weak."

"…What?" He doesn't want to believe he's hearing this but he does because he really _is _hearing this. He can't tell if Roxas doesn't trust him or if Roxas is trying to admit that he's selfish, and maybe it's a little of both.

"I…if I make one little mistake, I could ruin you. And that would ruin me. I'm a selfish bastard, I know."

"But…why would you force yourself to be weak? I know I'm not a bodybuilder or anything, but I'm not a china doll either."

"You are…the only person I've ever loved enough to be careful with, other than Larxene but she didn't need it. More than anything, I didn't want to hurt you. Ever. I won't, I _can't, _I _refuse _to hurt you. I decided to be weak physically around you because I'm weak emotionally around you and I…"

"You don't have to. I don't want you to…be weak. I want to know you…I want to know everything about you. I want to know _all _of you. And if that means I get sick…then I want to share that with you. God, Roxas…I never thought I'd feel this way about anyone. I never thought I'd feel _anything _this strongly. I want…I want you. And so I guess we're both selfish, aren't we? I mean…_you _live with your illness. It's already proven that I can find…take…well, I can get blood, if it's needed. I don't particularly want to get sick, but I _don't _want to only know part of you."

Something makes Roxas tense up, quiver like a tree in a storm. His eyes shut and his breath is ragged and he asks, slowly, "Are you…_crazy?"_

"Of course I am," Axel replies, leaning over to scrape his teeth on Roxas' collarbone. He loves that and Axel loves that and Axel loves Roxas. "I thought that was established by now."

He runs his fingers down Roxas' arm, lifts it up, presses kisses along the inside of his wrist and on his palm and on each of his fingertips. Roxas is shaking and his eyes are still closed and Axel whispers, "I'm crazy because I don't care about anything but you. I'm crazy because half the time I can only think about your eyes. I'm crazy because I live in this dark, silent house with you and _I love it. _But most of all, I'm just crazy about you."

Roxas' eyes snap open and before he knows it, he's lying on his back and Roxas is straddling his thighs and there are fingers slinking up inside his shirt. It's cold or hot, he can't really tell, and lips touch lips but they don't just touch, the join and merge and it's fire, fire, fire in his veins.

There's a hand at the zipper of his slacks and once he hears it _(zip-zip-zip) _his entire world _shifts._

And he loses all sense of self. He thinks he used to know what he liked and disliked, but he's experiencing a completely new _sen-sa-tion _and he only knows _pleasure._ It's all he can do to keep from screaming because there are _be-au-ti-ful _fingers all over him and there's _vi-ol-ence _in every move. _Vi-ol-ent _shudders rack his frame and he feels so fucking _delicate _in comparison to the human Adonis above him.

It hurts _ohgoditfuckinghurtsgetoutgetoutgetout _but either Roxas has experience or he's a natural, because after a moment it's _nevermindstayheremovemovemove,_ all _vi-ol-ent _pleasure and his kisses are the only gentle thing about him. Axel feels _pa-the-tic _and the ce-ru-le-an eyes above him glaze in the _best _fucking way.

Soft lips graze along his jaw line before coming back to his, the pressure in-sis-tent but not controlling like the rest of him.

And suddenly the world spins and he can't tell up from down and _ohgodyes _he doesn't _want _to. He falls out of the sky or bursts out of the ground and thinks he might be dying but that's not it because he loves Roxas more than _an-y-thing, _and Roxas wouldn't kill him.

And the flip switches off because he's exhausted and Roxas is _not _as cool as a cucumber and if he had to lie here under Roxas' tired body forever, he would _not _complain. He feels closer to the person he loves than he's ever been to anyone. He always thought sex was impersonal and pointless, but sex with Roxas is oh. Fuck. _Yes._

He closes his eyes – _only for a moment because he's afraid if he falls asleep Roxas will disappear – _and breathes in the scent of rose milk.

* * *

He wakes and regrets it because he feels like he's going to die.

His head hurts and his stomach hurts and his throat feels swollen and his mouth is dry, and he feels weaker than he previously thought was even possible. Roxas is lying next to him, unclothed for the first time, and he wants to be able to take in the beauty but he can't really appreciate it because it hurts to keep his eyes open.

He hears something like whimpering and it takes a moment to realize it's him, and he's glad Roxas is asleep because he doesn't want to be seen so vulnerable like this. He lies on his back and wishes away the pain, but it doesn't work so instead he wishes away the whimpers.

It works, eventually, and soon he drifts back into darkness which envelops him and soothes him like a mother would do.

* * *

He wakes again and Roxas is awake this time but just barely because it's a sleep-hazed smile and voice when he says, "Good morning."

Axel tries to answer but he can only make a noise which does nothing to convey the amount of pain he's feeling. Roxas is immediately more alert and there's a hand on his forehead and it's _freezing_ and Roxas says, "Shit."

Roxas is pacing and Axel doesn't really know why, but there's moonlight on the body and the universe is exploding within cerulean waves, and it's so beautiful he can almost forget that his body feels like it hates him.

"I didn't…shit, this is…this is why I didn't want to…_damn it."_

He's angry but not at Axel, and it's probably at himself but Axel doesn't really know _why. _Roxas goes away for a moment but he comes back, sits down on top of him, makes a soothing noise. There's something in front of Axel's face and Roxas says, gently, "Suck. Please."

So he does and it tastes like sea-salt ice cream and thunder like before except it's warm and he _hates it. _He tries to push Roxas' arm away so he can spit it out or throw up but he won't move and he says, "Do you want to die or what? I love you and I'm _not _going to let you end up like Sora because of _my _mistake. I know how to handle this now and I'm _not _going to let you die. So _suck."_

And he _hates it _because it's like wine instead of whole milk and it's warm and _alive, _and he _hates it _because it's dripping out of Roxas' wrist like a fountain, but he does it because there's some part of him that knows it's good for him to do what Roxas tells him to do, probably because they love each other and Axel trusts Roxas' judgment.

But he can't stomach it and once Roxas takes his arm away and gets off of him, he rolls onto his side and throws it all up.

He rolls onto his back again and shuts his eyes, and next to him he hears something like crying but he can't open his eyes to see.

* * *

It feels like fever but not and there's a bad taste in his mouth and he's lost all track of time, but he hangs onto whispered words like a lifeline.

"_I keep hoping you'll respond to me," _the Voice says, and it sounds weak. _"I love you. I'm so stupid. This is twice now…I'm…I can't decide whether I wish I'd never found you or I wish you hated me. I love you. I'm sorry. I love you. I need you. I love you. I love you…"_

He knows the Voice is Roxas and he wants to return the sentiment, wants to tell him he loves him more than words can properly convey.

But it won't come out because his body isn't working.

* * *

"_I thought about taking you to the hospital, but it would be hard to explain, huh? I think I still might…call an ambulance…I love you, Axel." _The Voice is weaker and shaky and the hand on his forehead is trembling. _"I love you. Don't you dare die."_

He wants to tell the Voice, which probably belongs to Roxas, that he's alive and not going anywhere, and that he loves him too.

But it won't come out because his body isn't working.

* * *

There's something at his lips and he _hates it _but not as much as before and the body next to him is trembling. He wants to tell it not to worry (he's sure it's Roxas) but he can't because nothing works.

* * *

"_Larxene bought that painting in the hall," _the Voice whispers. It's dull and weak and shaky, and the body beside him trembles violently. _"She said it suited us and this house. I kind of feel that way most of the time…everything's surrounding me, bigger than me, swallowing me up, and I'm screaming but no one can hear it because it's not me screaming, it's my heart. It's my soul. And suddenly you came and you could hear it, but I…I'm so sorry…I love you. Please don't die."_

He wants to tell the Voice _(please be Roxas) _not to die either, but his body just _will not work._

* * *

There's a taste in his mouth he's used to by now but he doesn't know why. He thinks he's supposed to _hate it _but he doesn't and when he opens his eyes it's nighttime and the moonlight is drizzling through the crack in the thick black curtains. There's a body next to him, lying still. He rolls over and wants to scream but it won't come out.

Roxas is there, Roxas is _lying there _with his eyes wide open, his _mouth _wide open in a silent scream. Both wrists are slit but they're not bleeding, and Roxas is even paler than before. At first Axel thinks he's dead but then he notices a very slight rise and fall of his chest.

Breathing.

Roxas' mouth moves and Axel hears him whisper, "I love you."

Cerulean is covered by pale lids and even though the chest doesn't stop moving it scares him and he wants to scream because he's scared out of his mind and he wants to scream because he's sad and there's something pulling on his heart.

And he sort of wants to laugh because he's finished his sonnet but he can't call it "Cerulean Dreams" now, because this is not a dream because it's a living, breathing nightmare. He wants to laugh because he wants it to be a joke, and he hopes Roxas wakes up because Roxas is his heart, his soul, his life. Roxas is still breathing but Axel's body isn't working properly and he knows he should give him blood but he can't move because he's _scared. _He wants to laugh because he's never been scared _of _Roxas, only _for _Roxas, even now.

He wants to scream more though, and he can't because his mouth won't work and his lungs won't give him extra breath. And he's hurting and he thinks his eyes are crying but he just _can't let it out._

_I wake from cerulean dreams_

_To nightmares filled with silent screams_


End file.
